Fairytales
by Shadowsammy
Summary: As an archaeologist, I dealt in fact, but also in legends. I had known about Erebor since I was young. I had heard all of the stories of the kingdom, of King Thorin and the Thirteen, his Company. I had loved those stories, loved the thought of living in that fairytale. But I was wrong. This world isn't the stuff of fairytales. It's the stuff of nightmares. Thorin X OC. AU.
1. Prologue: Once Upon A Time

~Prologue~

Once Upon A Time

 _They Say…  
You're the King of Everything,  
The One Who Taught the Wind to Sing,  
The Source of the Rhythm My Heart Keeps Beating.  
You Can Be the Hope My Soul's Been Seeking._

 _I Wanna Tell You Now I Believe It._

 _I'm An Empty Page.  
I'm An Open Book.  
Write Your Story On My Heart._

 _~Write Your Story,_ by Francesca Battistelli

Disclaimer: Me No Own; You No Sue.

* * *

 _Fairytales._

I read the cover.

"Can you read this to me?"

"Yeah, I can read this to you."

A small wistful smile claimed pink lips. I slowly dropped down to the white blanket, which had dulled with age, and pulled the thick tome into my arms. Back resting against the rock, I gently brushed clean fingertips along the edges of the old, ripped, and dusty book. It slowly creaked, the chapter in the middle of the book falling open as my eyes greedily drank in the familiar words and pictures. My favorite fairytale, _The King and the Dragon,_ was open.

"Once upon a time," I whispered, word for word, and practically reading the story from memory, "there was a very powerful kingdom hidden beneath the Mountain. Carved into the face of the Mountain by Mahal himself, the Dwarves lived in relative peace and prosperity, mining for the riches buried below – until the day that the dragon came! The Desolation of Smaug was very great, and terrible, in its strength, its pain. Prince Thorin, the strongest, smartest, and _bravest_ Dwarf of all, led his devastated people away, as even their allies turned their backs to the heartbroken Dwarves, who had lost much to the fire and the brimstone.

 _One day, though,_ Prince Thorin promised, _Smaug would die by his hand – and his hand alone…_

He _would_ become the King Under the Mountain.

He _would_ reclaim his homeland, Erebor.

Thorin swore it."

My heart warmed, and I thought of the famous King, the King Under the Mountain. He was a person of legend, lost between fact and fiction, myth and fairytale. Some said that the Dwarf led his Company into the fiery bowels of Erebor to kill Smaug. He killed Smaug and the Pale Orc, thus reclaiming his lost homeland for his people. Others claimed that the King and the two Princes, Fili and Kili, died in battle, though their homeland became theirs once more.

Another legend, and much older than the others, whispered of the –

"What happened next, Sammy?"

Blue irises dropped down to observe the small boy seated beside me. He was young, only six (and three quarters, if asking him), and still had the slender build of childhood. One could tell, with his black hair and brown eyes and tan skin, that the boy would be incredibly handsome someday. At the moment, however, Elijah Sinclair was a sweet little boy with dimples, and scabby knees, and big ears. He was cute.

Me, though – I was a mess with frizzing blonde hair, freckled skin, and sky blue eyes. I was covered in scratches and bruises from crawling around in the dark hidden tunnel that the lead archaeologist had uncovered yesterday. I was the smallest there, with the exception of Eli, and the team asked that I crawl in. Apparently, Mister Black had uncovered the path leading to the dungeons in the ruined Halls of Thranduil, from the ancient Woodland Realms. Little Eli had helped to clean up my scratched hands.

Curling my arm atop his, I pulled him closer and kissed the top of his head. He grumbled lightly at the touch and tried scrubbing the _girl cooties_ from his dark hair, small hands furiously raking through the curly strands. I smirked down at the little boy, pleased with his dramatic reaction, and mockingly leaned in again. Through long black eyelashes, which made me a _very_ jealous girl, Elijah glared darkly at me. I succumbed to laugher at his supposedly threatening look, swiftly ruffling his hair.

" _Sammy!_ " Eli whined through his teeth, before inhaling and puffing his cheeks out in anger. He was going for mad, but the boy only managed to look cuter with his red face and his little chipmunk cheeks.

"Okay, okay! I'll stop," I laughed at him again and pulled him back into my side. He cuddled much closer, his tanned face buried into my chest, and curiously stared at the yellowed story pages. A small finger pointed to the first one.

"What happened to King Thorin the T-Trumpet?" Eli curiously asked while squinting at the last word and stumbling through its pronunciation. He made to stick his thumb in his mouth, but I gently knocked it back down.

"King Thorin the _Triumphant,_ " I corrected him, masking the smile that claimed trembling lips at the mistake. "Say it with me." He grumpily did like asked and pointed at another word. "It says the _Company._ "

"…Oh," Eli simply said, before sticking his thumb in his mouth. He realized it before I could remind him not to suckle at it and removed this thumb from his mouth with a _pop_ and scowl. "What happened to King Thorin the _Tri-um-phant_ and the _Com-pany_ of Thirteen, then?"

"Nobody knows, Eli," I mysteriously informed the boy, face darkly shadowed by the flashlight I used to illuminate the small tent. He giggled at me as my small fingers fluttered and wiggled in front of his face, and then batted them away. I grinned down at him.

As a child stuck in the Question Phase, Eli wanted to know _anything_ and _everything._ He furrowed his little black eyebrows and asked, "Do you think that King Thorin is real?"

"Yes," I replied immediately and without doubt. My fingers flicked through the pages, until I arrived at the ending of the story. I pointed to the page, with the handsome Dwarf King and Company standing, side by side, with their swords pointed at us. Eli stared with wide eyes.

"Most of the story is lost to time, like their kingdom, but there are some artifacts – tapestries and pots and swords – that have made it out and into the hands of the archaeologists," I informed Eli, smiling down at him while gushing about the most recent find. "Yesterday, Daddy found this _really_ old sword while digging through the Halls. It's Elven in make, but I looked at it, and I think the runes on it translate to _Biter._ "

"How do you always know all of this stuff?" Eli asked with admiration. He, like me, was in love with the legends and the fairytales surrounding the history of Erebor – King Thorin, Prince Fili the Fierce, Prince Kili the Keen, Bilbo the Brave, and all the rest of the Company.

Grinning, I leaned down and motioned to him to lean closer as if to tell him something in secret. I whispered, "Well, I read lots of books and study lots of different _information_ because I want to be an _archaeologist_ , like Daddy." As usual, I made certain to slowly speak the bigger words.

"Me, too," Eli gasped out, his tiny body nearly trembling with the strength of his excitement. A small hand tugged at mine, and the little boy asked, "What about me? Can I become an _arch-ae-ol-o-gist_ , too?"

"Of course," I said while solemnly nodding down at him. I gestured to the space outside of the tents. "We always tag along with our parents to help at the digs!" I teased, "We'll have to take over when they're all old and wrinkly."

"They're already all old and wrinkly," Eli replied matter-of-factly, like only somebody of six ( _and three quarters,_ Eli piped) could do. He was now straight faced and serious. "Does that mean we're going to have to take over soon?"

"Not for a couple of years," I laughingly told him. I closed the old book, hugging it in my arms, and offered Eli the flashlight. He pointed it at me, and I winced, swatting it away. "We have to go and take all sorts of classes at a _university_ first."

"What kinds of classes? Are they like math? Because I really don't like math," Eli complained, his face falling at the thought of having to do more multiplication. His Mom, who taught him during the summers, was a _stickler_ for math worksheets. Poor kid…

"Not too many," I reassured him, which seemed to cheer the little boy up. "History classes are really important. _Anthropology_ and _religion,_ too! You get to go into the field early, which means you get to dig around and search for stuff before becoming a real _archaeologist._ "

Little Eli scrunched his face up, nose curling in between his puffed cheeks. He confusedly asked, "Is it like…practice?"

"Exactly," I praised him, smiling at his brightening expression. "It's kind of like pushing the practice button for the mini games on _Mario Party._ "

"Cool," Eli simply replied, before unexpectedly – well, maybe not, in _his_ case – changing the subject. "What about the sword? Do I get to see it? Is it sharp? Can I _hold_ it?" He began to vibrate like a small Chihuahua. "Can I? Can I, can I, can I?"

Pinching the bridge of my nose to stall the oncoming headache, I answered, "Your Dad helped Daddy to clean it up. It's in storage. You can see it tomorrow. _Yes._ It is really sharp. Your Mom will probably say no." I ticked the questions off with four fingers.

"What? Why can't I hold it?" Eli whined, but before the little boy could _really_ start complaining, I interrupted him by covering his mouth with my palm.

Dryly, I explained, "Well, Daddy is pretty _protective_ of it. They – Daddy, Mr. Bill and Mrs. Hannah – all think it might be Orcist, the sword given to King Thorin by the Wizard –"

"– Gandalf the Grey," Eli cheered his little interruption, tossing his hands up and exclaiming the name of the famous Wizard. He _loved_ Gandalf. Last Halloween, Eli had taken off with an old blanket and stick, stomping around the neighborhood and claiming to be the Istari.

" _SHHH!_ "

Eli and I both jumped.

"Some people here actually need to get up _early_ to excavate in the morning! Keep it quiet!" Mr. Ron, who was mean and rude to everybody except Mister Black, hissed, "Okay?!"

"Yes, Mr. Ron," Eli and I dutifully chorused while rolling our eyes. I thought about telling him not do it, but I had done it, too. I shrugged. His Mom could tell him off if Eli did it again.

"Go to sleep, Eli," Mrs. Hannah, his mother, grumbled from the tent beside ours. "Be good for Sammy. Or else you'll sleep in here for the night." She grumbled lightly. "Your father is snoring, too…"

"Okay," Eli sighed, blowing his bangs up, and then crawled into his sleeping bag. He tucked himself in, though I was permitted the _great honor_ of handing him his stuffed red dragon. "G'night, Mom. G'night, Sammy."

"Goodnight, Eli," I whispered because his Mom had already fallen back asleep. After checking my sleeping bag for snakes, finding none, and slipping in, I clicked the flashlight off and kissed his forehead. "Sweet dreams."

My own were vivid and bright with magic. My dreams echoed with the clashing of metal hitting metal and fire screaming through the air, rushing by stone, and lighting the night sky like Fourth of July fireworks. A Dwarf, his hair dark and his face handsome, slowly lowered his sword and lifted his other hand, stretching it out to me. I reached out for him and smiled.

That night, I dreamed of Erebor.

* * *

***Author's Note***

Hello! :) To all those that have read through my stories before, welcome back! To any new readers, hello and welcome! As I have mentioned to those reading _Sacrifice,_ the story I am just finishing for _The Lord of the Rings,_ I wanted to try writing a story for _The Hobbit!_ Readers have asked for **Thorin** to be the romantic interest of Sammy, and vice versa. _A poll is up, and you're welcome to still vote for the next day or so!_ Most have reviewed and voted for Thorin. Who can really blame them, though? ;)

 _NOTE:_ Please  review with who you'd like to see as a romantic couple other than Sammy/Thorin. (i.e. Kili and Tauriel.)

Anyway, I hope you all enjoy the story, which I will be updating again soon!

 _Sacrifice_ will be updated, completely edited, tomorrow!

 **PLEASE READ AND REVIEW!**

:)


	2. Chapter 1: Under the Mountain

~Chapter One~

Under the Mountain

 _I Must Confess:  
The Weight of This Is Overwhelming.  
With Things Unsaid, They Were Walking The Other Way.  
They Have Defined This Heart of Mine By Darker Shadings,  
When They Can't See Me At All. _

_So Light It Up, Light It Up, Burn It To The Ground,  
Or Dig It Up, Dig It Up, Never Knowing._

 _They Can't Begin To Comprehend What's Lying Under._

 _~Light It Up,_ by Nine Lashes

Disclaimer: Me No Own; You No Sue.

* * *

 **"Goodnight, Eli," I whispered because his Mom had already fallen back asleep. After checking my sleeping bag for snakes, finding none, and slipping in, I clicked the flashlight off and kissed his forehead. "Sweet dreams."**

 **My own were vivid and bright with magic. My dreams echoed with the clashing of metal hitting metal and fire screaming through the air, rushing by stone, and lighting the night sky like Fourth of July fireworks. A Dwarf, his hair dark and his face handsome, slowly lowered his sword and lifted his other hand, stretching it out to me. I reached out for him and smiled.**

 **That night, I dreamed of Erebor.**

* * *

 _Four Years Later_

Sunshine beat down, hot and bright and heavy, on my eyes and cheeks. My upturned face lowered, ducking behind the safety of the baseball hat I had shoved down over my eyes earlier, after departing the plane. It was old and blue, tattered along the bill, but the ratty blue cap was good enough protection against the heat of the glowing sun. It bathed everything in red light, making it look like the tents and the four wheelers had been bathed in fire. I smiled at the familiarity of it all.

Somebody short, though not too much shorter than myself, stepped out of the last tent in the line and walked out into the open. I squinted at the familiar shape of the black figure that darted out into the wet grass and started running back and forth with excitement. Its excitement, coupled with the familiar curly black hair flying around its head, made my smile widen.

"Eli!" I called out to him while setting down my suitcase and closing the door of the fire red Jeep Wrangler. My right hand pulled the right backpack strap over my shoulder, and I lifted the other hand high in the air, waving at him to catch his attention.

"Sammy!" Eli shrieked with happiness. He was still about thirty yards off to the right, but the little boy had heard the call and responded with his own. Long feet sank and then repeatedly shoved through golden dirt. Years of practice had made it easier for him to run in the sand.

Face bright, I dropped down with my arms open wide, just in time to catch the boy that thrust himself at me. I pulled him closer and hugged him tightly, face buried in his thick dark curls. I inhaled shakily. It had been three, almost four, years since I had last been face-to-face with him. We Skyped all the time, but it wasn't the same as pulling him closer, ruffling his dark hair, and giving him hugs. I pulled back, giving him the once over, and then smiled widely. He was so much taller!

At just shy of five feet, the ten ( _yeah, Eli, almost eleven_ ) year old put his head to my shoulder. I was, at five feet and two inches, only four inches taller than him, which meant that I should not, really, pick him up. I still did it, though, and happily carried him back to camp. He curled his skinny legs over my waist and put his face next to mine, happily chattering about the latest archaeological finds. A pipe, a vest with only six buttons, a collection of silver and golden beads, and two hammers, Eli dutifully reported, had been catalogued by Mr. Bill. It was _amazing_ because nobody had been permitted to explore anywhere but the Main Hall.

 _Imagine_ _all of the artifacts just waiting down there for us!_ I mused happily, and quite excited at the prospect of being set loose within the ancient ruins of Erebor, the Kingdom Under the Mountain.

What would I find…?

"You wouldn't believe how much _stuff_ is in there! Vases, carpets, and pictures! We're just now getting to the hallway, which branches off into, like, three _million_ directions!" Eli exclaimed this exaggeration in excitement, his boyish voice loud in my ear.

Ouch. I winced at the volume but did not curb his enthusiasm. Instead, I smiled brightly at him and hefted him higher in my arms, my eyes open wide and surveying the familiar faces and big smiles of old friends and the unfamiliar stares from the fresh meat. I called happily to several people and waved politely in greeting to the rest. As I walked leisurely through the campsite, reacquainting myself with everyone and everything, Eli happily chattered in my ears. It was sweet, but I secretly likened the continuous chatter to waking to the loud buzzing sound of a weed eater too early in the morning.

"Sounds like it will be an interesting next couple of months! Good thing I brought along my old book of fairytales for inspiration," I replied with a wide grin. He could not see my expression of happiness, but Eli and I had known each other long enough that the boy could hear it, loud and clear, in my words.

"Yes!" Eli cheered, lifting his dirty hands in the air and then quickly putting them back down as my arms protested the movement. I swayed dangerously from the sudden change in weight distribution, nearly dropping him, and Eli clawed desperately at my arms. " _Shit!_ "

"Be careful, Elijah!" I yelped at him, but the warning didn't do much good because, in the end, Eli and I still toppled forward and landed atop the sand in a graceless heap. I sputtered, hand brushing the sand from my cheeks and forehead, and groaned, "Language!"

"I speak English, Sammy. What about you?" Eli cheekily responded before falling to his back with a small thud and repeatedly swiping his limbs back and forth in the sand. He laughed, "Look, look, look! I made a sand angel! Cool, isn't it?!"

"Jesus Christ! You haven't changed at _all,_ have you?" I dryly asked the hyper boy – the preteen, really – before frowning at him in mock disappointment. Elijah pouted at me and then, without warning, blushed brightly in embarrassment.

"What's wrong?" I asked him in concern. Eli and I might not be related by blood, but I had been there at his birth, and I had pretty much stuck by him ever since. We both had little quirks. Eli recognized most of mine, and I could point out all of his – except for _this_ one, anyway.

"…Sand in my crack," Eli sheepishly mumbled the explanation with a groan. He immediately jumped to his feet and waddled for his tent, two identical waterfalls of sand cascading down from the legs of his shorts. I burst into peals of hysterical laughter.

Hearing the sound of laughter, Mr. Black poked his balding head out from between his tent flaps and glanced around the campsite, searching for the cause. He smiled faintly, seeing Eli waddle by like a constipated penguin, and called, "You are early, Ms. Steel."

Normally, I would've asked how Mr. Black had figured out that it was _me._ However, I had been scampering and nosing around his excavation sites for nearly two decades now. Daddy had been working for him since I was around two, and after Mom left, I was pretty much glued to his side. Some part of me was afraid – terrified, really – that I would lose him, too. Abandonment issues aside, I had been a relatively normal little girl, with really big dreams and insatiable curiosity. Much of that could still be said of me _now_ as well.

Mr. Black was a very stern man. He was, though, also kind, attentive, and considerate. He _listened._ Instead of ignoring his plight and firing him right then and there, Mr. Black permitted Daddy to travel from site to site while raising his small daughter. Mr. Black also helped Daddy keep an eye on me and teach me – not only the required school curriculum, but also of ancient civilizations and archaeology. Since then, Erebor had become my passion. An obsession, really…

As such, I was pretty much bound and determined to make it here, to Erebor, ahead of schedule. I wanted to help excavate and catalogue finds, and I wanted to do it _now._ I did not want to wait back home an additional three days when I could simply call and ask for another flight to New Zealand. Thankfully, United Airlines did not disappoint.

"Hello, Mr. Black, and yeah, I managed to book an earlier flight," I explained, standing back up and dusting the sand from my rear. My pants were worn and ripped, like most of the clothes I had packed, but I planned to crawl around in dusty and dirty ruins, so what did it matter?

"You have always been an ambitious girl," Mr. Black noted in amusement, the deep wrinkles in his weathered face lengthening at the sight of the shy smile I offered in response. "Well, I will not keep you. Your father is waiting and has been told to assign you your responsibilities."

"Thanks, Mr. Black," I said, hand out to take his in a quick but firm handshake, and then reached down to retrieve the backpack I had dropped when Eli and I tumbled into the sand. He kindly asked if I had brought anything else, and I replied in the affirmative, pointing to the Jeep.

"You're welcome, Ms. Steel." Mr. Black smiled back, turned around, and ordered Mr. Ron to get the other two bags I had brought with me. As the older archaeologist passed by, I smiled sweetly at him. He scowled back with dark eyes and yellowed teeth.

Gross. Mr. Ron _really_ needed to quit smoking…

"Sammy! Wait for me!"

I slowed down.

"Thanks," Eli gasped, bracing his hands against his tanned legs, and then straightened. He had retrieved his pack – and changed into fresh shorts, I noticed with amusement, but I refrained from teasing him again. "Mr. Black said I could tag along with you. Is that okay?"

Amused, I ruffled his hair, ignoring his cries of protest and distress, and announced, "Duh! Just like old times then, huh?" I marched ahead while the preteen sought to fix his wild hair by licking his dirty hands and smoothing it down again.

Cheeks stretched, dimples showing, and smile wide, Eli unknowingly showed off two silver train tracks of little blue and purple squares. He shoved his hands in his back pockets and agreed, "Yep! Just like Finn and Jake, from _Adventure Time!_ "

"Ugh," I said while scrunching up my nose and grimacing at him, pink tongue sticking out and blue eyes crossed to make him laugh. I nudged him with my arm. "Your Mom lets you watch that sh – uh, stuff?"

Little Eli shifted guiltily beneath my gaze. "…Not really," Eli admitted, shrugging his thin shoulders, "but Mom is usually too busy out in the field to care. I can pretty much watch whatever I want to with the iPad."

My shoulders slumped, and I frowned, silent for another moment. I loved Eli, and I liked Mr. Bill and Mrs. Hannah well enough, but I wished that his parents would take the time to pay _attention_ to him. Daddy had been a single parent and, although absentminded, had always managed to find time to play with me. After I turned fourteen, though, I was pretty much responsible for entertaining myself – and Eli. Little Eli turned two that year.

And Eli was only four when I left…

I sighed.

University had been necessary. I was already knowledgeable and skilled in most of the subjects pertaining to archaeology, having been raised by a small team of archaeologists, but I wanted – and needed – to go. I wanted to _learn,_ to chase after those childhood dreams of becoming an archaeologist, to live out that fairytale. But I hadn't wanted to leave Eli behind. I would've taken him in a quick heartbeat if I could have managed it!

"Sorry, Eli," I apologized softly while reaching out and taking hold of his shoulder, pulling him close enough to hug lightly to my side, like I used to do while reading to him at night. I kissed the top of his head and, while Eli grumbled, the preteen boy did not wipe it away and let it be. Progress!

Little Eli shrugged his shoulders again, hands shoved deeper in his pockets now, and mumbled, "'s okay. I spent lots of time with Mr. Daniel, learning how to catalogue the finds from the dig sites at the Iron Hills. It was pretty cool."

"He was a great help, too."

A man of about fifty had stepped out from amidst the rubble – the rocks, broken pillars, and the remains of a really large statute – surrounding the dilapidated stairs leading to the ancient ruins. Black hair, speckled with strands of silver, dropped into light blue irises, which lifted to meet mine. He cleaned his dusty hands with a spare cloth that had been sticking out of his back pocket and then lifted his arms up as an invitation. "Where's that hug you promised?"

"Right here, Daddy," I laughed at him, leaping forward and curling both arms around his thicker shoulders. I squeezed him tightly, knowing that Daddy, while older now, was strong enough to take it. Most people nowadays were only of the Race of Men. We, however, were proudly descended from both Men _and_ Dwarves.

My father was shorter than most men, at about five feet and six inches, but tall for somebody that claimed to be part Dwarrow. I could almost stare him in the eye. So I pulled back from his hug, smiled at him, and then bluntly demanded, "What do I do first?"

Snorting, Daddy ruffled the hair hanging in my eyes, much like I did to Eli. He absently smiled back and then glanced at the ruins in the mountain with thoughtful blue eyes. "Well, Mr. Black said that Bill and Hannah finished clearing the path to the Hall of Gold. Why don't you and Eli head there first?"

"Sounds good," I replied, leaning forward to kiss his bearded cheek. My father gruffly wiped at the invisible mark, before wandering off in the direction of the main tent, already pulling out his rumpled notepad and penning down additional observations. I smiled fondly after him.

Eagerly bouncing from foot to foot, Eli tugged at my arm, released it, and then bolted towards the ruins. "C'mon, Sammy," Eli begged from the topmost step, "I want to get started before Mom and Dad get in there. They'll hog all the _good_ finds!"

Amused, I tightened the thin straps clinging to my shoulders and raced after the smaller boy. As a child descended from both Men and Elves, however, Eli would most definitely be taller within the next five years or so. At the moment, Eli and I could both crawl around in the smaller spaces without hindrance. So I bypassed the staircase several other archaeologists examined in favor of the small crevice at the back of the Main Hall. They waved and called their greetings. I waved back but squatted down in front of the crevice, all attention glued to the opening to the Hall of Gold.

"Holy shit," Eli mumbled, shoving in between me and the wall and squinting into the darkness of the other room. He pointed at something that I could not see and exclaimed, "Is that a golden chair?! Are you going to sit in it? 'Cause _I'm_ going to sit in it!"

"Quit cursing, it's probably the throne, and it's for Kings. Let me go in first," I dryly said to Eli, who looked ready to wet himself. I gently nudged him to the side and then rifled through my pack, searching for my gloves and flashlight. "Here, Eli. I have extras for you, too."

"Thanks, Sammy," Eli beamed, his dimpled face and his braces shining brightly in the glow of the flashlight I pointed to his left. It made his tanned skin glisten like golden pearls in the darkness, and I was reminded yet again of his heritage.

Without saying anything else, I grinned back at him, crouched down, and ducked into the crevice. Eli, who did not trust easily, immediately followed suit. We were able to squat down, thighs curled tightly, and waddle forward for about halfway down the rocky path. Soon, though, the tunnels that had been cleared became smaller, and thinner, and thus too difficult to continue traveling that way. Refusing to be deterred, I dropped to hands and knees and crawled forward, praying that my curvier than normal hips would _not_ get stuck. It was a close call, but I finally managed to squeeze my way through the tunnel and into the Hall of Gold.

My mouth dropped, and I gaped at the splendor of the Hall of Gold. I carefully climbed to both feet and stepped into the spacious chamber and then whirled around, spinning in place to take it all in at once. Everywhere I turned, I found gold – golden _floors,_ golden _sconces,_ golden _chairs,_ golden _tables,_ and much more! When Eli had asked about the chair, I had been wrong. I had automatically assumed that the golden chair would be meant for the King. Here, though, I spotted fifteen golden chairs at first glance, which meant –

"King Thorin and the Thirteen," I breathed, completely in awe, and hesitantly stepped closer to examine the rectangular table. A small, trembling hand reached to reverently touch the golden but dusty surface of the table. In front of each chair was a small collection of runes. Dwarf Runes.

I inhaled sharply.

 _Names!_

Immediately, I wiped at the surface of the table with a special brush and crouched down to squint at them in curiosity. I could almost make out the name. It started with _S._ I frowned down at the little line, confused about which Dwarf it meant. Which of the Thirteen had that letter in it? Was I reading that rune wrong? _Dammit!_

A flashlight beamed brightly through the cloud of dust that had risen from my search, making the small particles glitter like tiny diamonds. Eli bounced forward, waving his hand through the dust to clear it from in front of his face. "There're fifteen chairs here, though…" He pointed out.

Frowning in thought, I began mumbling their names. "Bilbo, Fili and Kili, Oin and Gloin –" I stopped suddenly, hearing the telltale signs of furniture being moved to the side. I whirled around, squinting in the darkness for his flashlight. "…Eli? Eli! Where _are_ you?"

Nobody answered, though, and I cursed quietly, fumbling for the flashlight that I had set down in order to investigate the odd Dwarf Runes. I left the rest of the ancient etchings intact and started walking forward, though I wanted to stay put to discern the rest of that name – all of them, really. Mouth pursed, I slowly picked through the debris littering the floor, and headed for the stairs that I discovered lining the Hall of Gold, which had turned out to hold the Council Chambers.

Irritated, I squeezed between two pillars and down another walkway, searching for the wayward boy. I glared around the seemingly empty room and threatened, "Elijah Michaels, I'm going to count to ten, and if you're not out here where I can _see you_ at that point, then…uh…" I trailed off.

Golden hair fluttered in the hot breeze blowing softly through zigzagging cracks in the walls and the ceiling, which had formed from the foundation settling after thousands of years. I gazed at it in awe and settled down against a pile of rubble and bricks, fingers swiping down the sides of a claylike substance. My fingers were raised to quivering nostrils, and I smelled the fresh earthy scent of the dark brown sediment with curiosity. I stared it, before retrieving a plastic bag and placing a sample in the Ziploc. It should have been much lighter in color after being stored in the bowels of a mountain for several millennia, but if it had been exposed to _water,_ then…

Humming in thought, I scooted down the banks of what appeared to have been a rather large lake in the past. It was slightly damp, like the moisture had yet to completely evaporate, and the mud stained the bottoms of my pants, which had been tucked into lightweight boots. My soles, I also noted, had mud and bits of seaweed and tiny bone fragments. Upon closer inspection, I figured them to have belonged to fish. This, too, I collected samples of for cataloging.

"Do you see that down there?" Eli, standing in the middle of a vast valley, turned to stare at me. When I had finished labeling the samples with a permanent marker and turned to scold him, Eli interrupted to point at something rather strange and puzzled, "It looks kinda like…"

"…Bones," Eli and I breathed together in shock, before I stumbled forward to examine a jagged talon protruding from the hand – perhaps foot – of the extraordinarily preserved remains. I nervously, and needlessly, added, "Really, really, really _big_ bones!"

Whatever once owned these bones had been big, clawed, and, from the quick glance at the sides of the beast, winged. I hesitantly removed several pieces of chalk from my pack and tossed two to Eli. Wordlessly, Eli and I began chalking the circle around the gigantic beast, starting at the same point below the head, splitting left and right, and then meeting at the tail. I removed the digital camcorder from my pack and filmed the perimeters, regretting that I had not thought about doing the same in the Council Chambers. _All of those beautiful Runes…!_

"Um, I think this wing is about fifty feet in length," Eli helpfully offered from beside the remains of the left wing, letting his measuring tape shut with a _snap._ "His wingspan would be, uh, 100 feet, right?" He scrunched his face and grumbled, "Ugh, I hate math…"

"Well, I did mention that _some_ math would be involved in the field," I absently reminded Elijah, oblivious to his glowering facial expression, before smiling at him. I ruffled his hair and praised, "You're right, though, Eli. His wingspan would 100 feet. His body is about 70 feet from the snout of his skull to his tip of tail. All of that would make him, well, _huge!_ "

"Him, huh? How do you…?" Eli interrupted himself by raising his hands in front of his face, as if to ward of the explanation I had already formed, and mumbled, "You know what? Never mind! I don't want to know!"

Giggling, I ducked down to point at the pelvis of the creature. "Get your mind out of the gutters, Eli!" I teased him with a smirk. My small fingers pointed to the outside of the pelvis and then its opening. "You see? A female pelvis is much wider, and if it wasn't male, then the opening here would be slightly wider, too."

"Its pelvis is shaped like a…" Eli paused to squint down at the outline of the partially crushed remains of the left half of the pelvis bone. "…butterfly."

"This creature is male," I cheerfully confirmed, getting another shot of the remains to document proof of what I had just told Eli. Archaeology was my major, but I also studied paleontology for the fun of it.

Yeah, I was a nerd…

"What _is_ it, though?" Eli asked, clearly frustrated, and thrust his hand between the thick bones of the ribcage. I hesitated, not wanting to frighten him, but Eli frowned at me. "C'mon, Sammy! I'm not a child! I'm _ten._ " He puffed out his slender little chest. "I can definitely handle it!"

"Okay, okay!" I relented, sighing at the reminder of just how stubborn Eli could be if interested enough in something, and sending sweaty blonde bangs flying in the air. "This beast is, if I'm not mistaken, a dragon."

"'A dragon,'" Eli dumbly echoed the words, mouth opening and closing momentarily, and then stared at me. He squeaked, "You think this thing is a… _dragon_?!"

"It _is_ large, with a very wide wingspan, which would've made it heavy. Judging by the scales back there…" I pointed to the ground below its chest. "…our mysterious creature appears to have been predominately red. From its pelvis, I can tell that it's male. A male dragon," I concluded.

"Huh," Eli mumbled, bending down to glance at a chipped red scale that had fallen from the ribcage that the boy had just examined. He delicately lifted it with his fingertip, a strangely faraway look in his eyes, and muttered, "Hey, Sammy. Do you remember Big Red?"

"Big Red is that stuffed dragon plush that Daddy and I gave you on your third birthday, right? Why? Do you still have him?" I asked him, confused about the change in subject – but, then again, Eli _always_ jumped from topic to topic. He usually made a point. Eventually…

"Yeah, I still have him. He's in my pack. Do you, uh, remember why I wanted him that badly?" Eli continued while staring down at the remains with the strangest gleam in his brown eyes. He shifted his pack, clearly thinking of the stuffed red dragon placed inside of it.

"Well, I was reading _Fairytales_ to you, and I had just finished the story of _The King and the Dragon_ –" I immediately stopped, petrified by his train of thought. "No. No way in Hell! We're amateurs! You and I can't have found…" I gulped lightly. " _…him._ "

"Who _else_ could it be – Toothless from _How To Train Your Dragon_?" Eli demanded, his voice squeaking prematurely with his sudden bout of nerves. He shifted anxiously, bouncing from boot to boot, and bit his lips to keep from stuttering out another sarcastic question.

"' _One day, though,_ Prince Thorin promised, _Smaug would die by his hand – and his hand alone_ ,'" I quietly whispered the words of the old fairytale: _The King and the Dragon._

With that in mind, Eli and I slowly turned to stare at each other, dumbfounded, and then the skeletal remains of –

"…Smaug!"

* * *

***Author's Note***

 **WOW!** O_o _Thank you so much_ for the sudden rush of alerts, favorites, and reviews! My email went _crazy!_ Honestly, I don't think I have ever received that much attention to the first chapter of anything I have written. So I really, really, _really_ hope that this lives up to reader expectations! I worked really hard to get it done by Saturday, but I wasn't 100% satisfied with it. Here it is now! :)

 _NOTE:_ The **Poll** for this story is closed! It is officially Thorin X OC! Please  review with who you'd like to see as a romantic couple other than Sammy/Thorin. (i.e. Kili and Tauriel.)

 **PLEASE READ AND REVIEW!**

 _Update = Um, 20 Reviews?_

:)


	3. Chapter 2: The King and the Dragon

~Chapter Two~

The King and the Dragon

 _I've Been Thinking Of Everything  
I Used To Want To Be.  
I've Been Thinking Of Everything;  
Of Me, Of You and Me._

 _I'm In the Middle of Nothing,  
And It's Where I Want To Be. _

_And I Swear To God,  
I'll Find Myself  
In the End. _

_~The Story,_ by 30 Seconds To Mars

Disclaimer: Me No Own; You No Sue.

* * *

 **"Well, I was reading _Fairytales_ to you, and I had just finished the story of _The King and the Dragon_ –" I immediately stopped, petrified by his train of thought. "No. No way in Hell! We're amateurs! You and I can't have found…" I gulped lightly. " _…him._ "**

 **"Who _else_ could it be – Toothless from _How To Train Your Dragon_?" Eli demanded, his voice squeaking prematurely with his sudden bout of nerves. He shifted anxiously, bouncing from boot to boot, and bit his lips to keep from stuttering out another sarcastic question.**

 **"' _One day, though,_ Prince Thorin promised, _Smaug would die by his hand – and his hand alone_ ,'" I quietly whispered the words of the old fairytale: _The King and the Dragon._**

 **With that in mind, Eli and I slowly turned to stare at each other, dumbfounded, and then the skeletal remains of –**

 **"…Smaug!"**

* * *

News of Lord Smaug the Golden, the Impenetrable, and incredibly Dead Dragon had spread through the campsite like wildfire burning through the tall, dry grass. All the tents, filled with the archaeologists, their spouses, and their children, buzzed loudly with excitement. Everyone was running around in good spirits, their smiles wide and voices filled with glee at the prospect of being recognized in correlation with the discovery of Smaug. An archaeological find of _this_ magnitude, regardless of which archaeologist had actually stumbled into it, would make us all famous.

To be known for finding the Lost Kingdom of Erebor would successfully capture the attention of the Big Wigs that funded all of this stuff and let all of the adults dig around in the dirt like little kids, with their little shovels and their little brushes. To be known for being one of the famous archaeologists responsible for excavating the Kingdom Under the Mountain was a real honor. To be known for discovering the remains of _Smaug,_ however, would immortalize us.

Now, Eli and I would be known forever – in history, in legend, and, with the passing of time, in fairytales – just like King Thorin and the Thirteen.

King Thorin and his Company deserved the recognition. I settled into the routine of dusting off another relic, brushing the debris from the ancient pottery with a small brush of horsehair. Me, though – I deserved to be left in the dust, to be ridiculed for getting bigheaded about finding Smaug. Little Eli had also helped find Smaug, and yet nobody would give him credit where credit had been earned. All the other archaeologists saw was a small boy with behavioral problems and ADHD. And Eli deserved better than that nonsense…

My mind wandered, and I let it, finding the task too inane to really keep my attention for long. It drifted back to the story of _The King and the Dragon._ In it, Prince Thorin had promised, "' _One day, Smaug would die by his hand – and his hand alone…_ '"

Why were the remains of Smaug at the bottom of Laketown, and not within the Kingdom Under the Mountain? Did King Thorin really kill him, or was someone else to thank for that triumph, that victory? How did Smaug die…?

So many questions! So little answers!

I huffed in frustration.

"Sammy!"

Hearing my name, and the excitement in the voice, I subtly cringed, knowing that somebody _else_ wanted to talk about Smaug. I carefully deposited the bagged and tagged relic in the hands of the closest intern, letting the redheaded girl – Sheena – take it to Mr. Black. She gave me an envious look before walking back towards the cataloguing stations, her hands full and face scrunched in displeasure. If I was correct, then Sheena would not return to the field after completing her internship. I snorted. _Good riddance, too!_

"Congratulations," Mr. Bill cheered, and the enthusiasm in his voice was contagious enough that the two baby interns following in his wake stopped in their tracks to beam at me. I smiled warily back at the two college boys, fearful of the hero worship glittering in their big eyes.

Thing One and Thing Two stepped closer.

And I stepped back.

"We heard _all_ about Smaug and just wanted to, like, meet you," Thing One explained, brushing his fingers through his hair in the attempt of looking sexy. All that the moron accomplished, however, was putting clumps of clay – sticky clay – in his (formerly) sleek black hair.

"My name is Jeff, and this is Clint," Thing Two introduced, but instead of reaching out to shake hands like _normal_ people would in this situation, the idiot clapped his large hand down on my arm. "You wanna eat lunch together? You, Clint, and I can talk about, uh…Smaug." He winked at me. "What do you say, Sarah?"

Laughing nervously at being the center of their attention, I scratched at the small pinkish cuts currently scabbing along my arm. Thing Two grimaced at the sight of the thick brown scabs but continued hold tightly to my arm. I sighed. This craziness – the ambushes and congratulations – had been a common occurrence since about eight o' clock this morning, at which time Eli and I'd finally wandered back out of Erebor to report the discovery to the masses. We had been ignored at first, most of the other archaeologists believing it to be a prank – the foolhardiness of two irresponsible _children_ – until Mr. Black reprimanded them for their stupidity _._

Resisting the urge to cross my arms and sulk, I snorted derisively. _Prank? Ha! Pranks were supposed to be funny!_ _ **Nothing**_ _about finding the deteriorating remains of Smaug had been funny. Exhilarating and terrifying, yeah, but not_ _ **funny**_ _…_

"My name is _Sammy,_ you moron, and to be honest, I'm not really hungry right now. Besides, Eli and I usually have lunch together," I replied, glaring at him and yanking the imprisoned limb out of his grasp. Whereas Thing One only looked disappointed, Thing Two squinted down his nose and opened his mouth to retort.

"Jeff, Clint, I need to have these filed before lunch. Fill in Forms 2A and 2B and then give them to Ms. Claire. She'll take care of the rest of the paperwork _,_ " Mr. Bill interrupted, his stern glare warning the two interns to shut their traps. They reluctantly followed his orders.

"Ugh, I can't _believe_ that Mr. Black picked that little know-it-all to scout out all the new rooms," Thing Two snarled, clearly forgetting – or not caring – that Mr. Bill and I could hear. Thing One sympathetically slapped his hand against his back and agreed, "Totally!"

Eyeing the two interns with distaste, Mr. Bill tossed his hands in the air and, beneath his breath, grumbled, "Thank God that _you_ actually have brains, Steel, because all those dragon bones and scales would've been totaled if those two _idiots_ had found him…"

"Thanks, Mr. Bill," I chirped, pretending to be grateful for the praise, and instead feeling guilty. So I tried to steer the conversation around to his child, the little boy that worshipped the ground his father excavated. "You son was a really big help, too! He actually discovered the remains and then helped to record the details of the find."

 _Not that anybody here believes it…_

Hands in my pockets, I glanced around the Main Hall, thinking back to the sadness surrounding Eli like a raincloud. I tried to convince him to help me out with another project of mine, but Eli, looking dejected, had wandered off to skip rocks in a couple of puddles, the only water left from Laketown. A curly head of black hair popped into view now and again, bobbing around by the puddles in search of pebbles, and I inwardly sighed in relief at each of his reappearances. Eli was _my_ responsibility, and had been for years. Knowing where to find him was a comfort.

"Yes, yes. I've heard that Eli is quite the little helper," Mr. Bill exclaimed, carelessly waving his large hand in dismissal. He, like his ancestors, was of the Race of Men, and his height, features, and blunt disposition often left the rest of us reeling. "Now, Eli might have been there to hold the supplies, but _you,_ my girl, discovered Lord Smaug – the Hurricane of the North!"

 _ **Wrong.**_

" _Do you remember Big Red?"_

" _Big Red is that stuffed dragon plush that Daddy and I gave you on your third birthday, right?"_

Face reddening in frustration, I huffed at the Man, wanting to scream and yell at him that _Eli_ had discovered Smaug. _Eli_ had taken the time to measure out his incredible wingspan and help chalk out the outline of his fossilized remains. And _Eli_ – clueless, hyperactive, little Eli – had been the one to make the connection to between Smaug and the pile of bones resting in the once watery graveyard of Laketown.

Instead of ranting and raving at him, however, I stared straight into his beady black eyes and quietly said, "You really should spend time with Eli, Mr. Bill. He _needs_ you."

A darkness flitted down his face, burning like fire and yet colder than ice. Mr. Bill scowled, his lips curling, and defensively growled, "What business is that of yours? I spend time with him." He paused, the darkness fading beneath amusement. "Besides, Eli prefers spending time with _you._ Got a crush, I think…"

My facial expression soured briefly. _You discovered Lord Smaug._ I heard the compliment in his words but perceived it more as an insult than anything else. Mr. Bill and his wife, Mrs. Hannah, had always wanted to have a girl, but after having Eli, Mrs. Hannah lost her ability to conceive and safely carry a child to full term. Such complications should not have affected her ability to look after Eli. Subconsciously, though, Mrs. Hannah avoided the little boy whenever possible, and Mr. Bill spent far too much time working to play with his son…

Eli was more _my_ son than theirs!

I scowled darkly.

"Never mind," I muttered, shouldering my pack and heading towards the hallway leading out of the Main Hall and into the belly of the Dwarvish Kingdom, where I could be alone while exploring its riches and its secrets.

"Hey! Where are you going? Don't you want lunch?" Mr. Bill asked, sounding confused, and waved his chicken and bacon sandwich in the air. He frowned down at my retreating form and bluntly added, "Might as well eat, Steel. You're not going to find anything better than Smaug here, anyway…"

"Yeah," Thing One piped from behind him, having reappeared with his lunch, and bit into his grilled cheese sandwich. "Smaug is, like, the best thing ever. You're already famous, so why bother, like, searching for anything else?"

Nodding his head in agreement, Mr. Bill pointed his finger at the college intern and then reached out to lick the mustard dripping down it. The Man bit into his sandwich again and, through the mouthful of food, ordered, "Listen to the boy, have a sandwich, and give the others time to find something, Steel."

"I'm not hungry," I petulantly returned, refusing to turn around and give him the satisfaction of seeing the tears of frustration brimming in my angry eyes. _Who died and made_ _ **him**_ _King?_

Stomping through the hallway and climbing through the rubble littering the path, I stormed into another recently discovered section of the seemingly endless Kingdom Under the Mountain. It was a narrow and cramped strip of hall, perhaps part of the secret tunnel system created by the Dwarves to help their elderly, sick, or young escape in the event of possible invasions, but I – being lazy – only used it as a shortcut. Where it would lead, however, was a mystery.

"Never going to find anything better than Smaug, huh? I'll show _him!_ I'll show them all…!" I muttered in irritation, hands balled into fists and swinging furiously as my short legs stomped through the excavated – and still unknown – parts of Erebor in search of the Throne Room.

Nobody _else_ had the faintest clue where to start searching for it, but…

Yesterday, Daddy and several of the other archaeologists had stumbled into the Royal Library. He was ecstatic at the find, and in his enthusiasm to begin cataloging the books, scrolls, and tomes lining the dusty shelves, Daddy had been ignorant to my own progress as a novice archaeologist. I loved books, but Eli and I had found _Smaug._ Didn't that interest him?!

As a young archaeologist, I wanted – and needed – to be the _best,_ to be better than the veterans, the novices, and the interns alike. I thirsted for knowledge, devouring all of the books about the Kingdom Under the Mountain that I could find. No doubt about it – I was educated, but I was a novice in terms of experience. Still, Mr. Black had decided to give me a chance. He also gave me more responsibility and leeway than the rest of the fresh meat because Daddy had vouched for me as a young and promising student of archaeology, with good grades and the passion needed for excavating Erebor. They placed their trust in me. They gave me a _purpose._

Resolved to prove my naysayers incorrect, I quieted down and stealthily slipped into the Royal Library. I ducked behind the shelves closest to the broken and splintered white doors, through which Daddy, Mrs. Hannah, and Mrs. Shay had disappeared several hours ago. My blue eyes glanced around the library, searching for the dark Dwarf, the slender Elf, and the Easterling. Daddy was passing another book to Mrs. Hannah and chatting animatedly with Mrs. Shay, gesturing between her darker skin and hair and the pictures in the book. She looked _mad._

Snorting in amusement, I listened to their resulting bickering and surmised that Daddy must have unintentionally said something derogatory about her heritage again. The Easterling did _not_ take kindly to insults. With that in mind, I let them all be and slinked towards the back of the library. My small fingers snaked into the sorted piles of books and sought out a map and the journal I found in the Royal Wing. Short and loopy swirls of handwriting covered the pages, even the margins, and several little pictures peeked out from beneath the words – pictures of people, plants, and places.

 _Bingo!_ I thought, resisting the desire to rub both hands together with glee. _We have a winner!_

While the map was only of ancient Earth – originally called Middle Earth – I could still make out the basic shape of the Kingdom of Erebor from its little inked outline, hidden amongst the slopes of the Lonely Mountain. A member of the Company of Thorin Oakenshield had also drawn its likeness and factually recorded the details of their return to Erebor. Whoever had owned _this_ particular journal had been meticulous, too! With luck, I would find mention of the Throne Room and, possibly, how to find it.

Now, I just had to leave the library without attracting the attention of the Three Stooges!

A smirk claimed pink lips. My personality was more eager, stubborn, and fiery than most, but I could be quiet, too. So I managed to sneak out of the library by crawling down the raggedy blue and white carpets, which helped to muffle the shuffling noise of my palms and knees repeatedly hitting the stone tiles of the floor. Daddy, Mrs. Hannah, and Mrs. Shay, who all continued to bicker at each other like the Old Races of Middle Earth, were easy enough to avoid.

Eli, however…

"Watcha doing with that stuff, Sammy?"

As if scenting the possibility to partake in some mischief, Eli had appeared at that exact moment and tapped his finger on my arm. My mind automatically connected it with him because of the thick, rubbery Avengers bandage hugging the slender digit just above the knuckle. But I still freaked out.

"Fuck," I yelped in surprise, hand flying to my mouth the moment the foul word escaped from between parted lips. I sheepishly smiled at the shocked boy, pale cheeks turning pink with the embarrassment of being so crass – and in front of the impressionable preteen boy, too.

Apparently, I needn't have worried about it because Eli merely blinked at me and cheerfully stated, "Fuck is a strange word. Mom and Dad like to yell it sometimes, really late at night. What does it mean?"

 _Wow. Okay._ My face paled, and I stared down at the curious boy while panic and amusement warred within me. "Uh, I think you should find Mrs. Hannah and ask _her_ if you really want to know…" I trailed off in the hopes of him leaving to do so. Sooner rather than later, I hoped.

"Why?" Eli asked, understandably confused; I usually answered all of his questions without hesitation. He frowned, lips falling beneath the weight of his angered expression, and added, "Mom _never_ answers my questions. _You_ do, though!"

"True," I admitted, drawling out the word to delay him from further questioning and to think of another topic to discuss with the curious boy. I desperately glanced around for inspiration, and after spotting the journal sticking out of my pack, I brightened. "Speaking of questions, I'm trying to find the Throne Room. Wanna help?"

Thankfully, Eli was eager to partake in another adventure and thus suitably distracted by that suggestion of exploring Erebor. He lifted his eyebrows and sarcastically exclaimed, " _Duh!_ "

Hand flying to his mouth, I hushed the exuberant preteen and pointed to the three archaeologists still milling around in the library in search of –

"Dammit! Where is that blasted journal, Hannah?"

"All I know is that I left it right there. If _Daniel_ could just keep track of things…"

"Don't blame _me!_ I've been busy with the historical texts about the Blue Mountains. We might have found the Dwarves of the Iron Hills and Erebor, but the Blue Mountains remain lost and –"

"Great. Good going, Hannah. You got him started about his thrice damned ancestors _again_ …"

Eyes rolling, I pushed the snickering Eli in the backside and urged him to continue crawling forward. We made our way into the hallway again, the map and the journal safely tucked down in the middle of the heavy backpack sliding down my arms. I shoved it back up on my shoulders and tried standing but only toppled backwards, into the wall, and – CRACK, CREAK, **THUD** – through it. Rocks ricocheted everywhere, falling over me as my small form tumbled down two flights of steps. Rubble, dirt, and small bits of old cloth fluttered down through the darkness, illuminated by the light pouring in through the crack in the wall above me.

A head of black hair and two big black eyes were soon seen as my younger companion climbed high enough to stick his face in the broken wall. Eli squinted down into the darkness, searching for me, and worriedly called, "Hey, I can't see you! Where _are_ you? Are you okay, Sammy?!"

A soft whimper escaped from between clenched teeth. Everything hurt, like I had bruised all the skin covering my entire body. I grunted at Eli, hearing the questions and knowing that if I didn't reply, Eli would try to climb in after me and possibly hurt himself. So I slowly leaned forward, bracing one arm on a pillar and using the other to stand. I blinked down at myself. My hands looked like I had tried to shove them down the garbage disposal, but other than that…

"Nothing is broken," I called back, busily searching through the pack for my small flashlight and the first aid kit. My fingers touched the oval plastic covering the lightbulb, and I fumbled for the button, clicking it on. While bandaging the worst of the cuts, I yelled, "Wait there, Eli! I don't want you coming down here and –"

CRACK, BANG, THUD!

"OW!"

Sighing, I rubbed the freshly bandaged hand against my nose and finished, "…falling," before carefully jogging through the dimly lit rubble in search of Eli. I found the smaller boy tucked awkwardly in between two pillars, gangly little legs sticking out in the darkness like two bug antennae. One hand clutching the flashlight, I reached out to tug at his leg and pull him free. We were successful, albeit with lots of pulling from _me_ and lots of whining from _him._

"Why is it always me?" Eli whined, hands rubbing at his tender backside, which had apparently taken the brunt of the fall and ached from the force of impact. A wince marred his otherwise normal features.

"Wimp," I teased him, reaching out to ruffle his dark hair with affection, and then nudged him up another flight of steps. "You only fell down about fifteen feet. Nothing to complain about in the long run! Just another day in the life of an archaeologist…"

My little friend slowly turned back around and stared at me with raised eyebrows, like what I had said really worried him for some reason. Incredulously, Eli asked, "You think that going through _walls_ and falling _fifteen feet_ down into the dark is _normal_?"

Oh, I could play this game! I was the _best_ at having nearly fatal experiences and living to tell the tale! My Daddy always complained that the silver peppering his dark hair had been put there because of my crazy antics. "Remember when I nearly drowned in that weird river back at Thranduil's Halls?" I countered without a pause.

Little Eli opened his mouth, let it hang wide for a moment, and then closed it again in defeat. I smiled smugly at his exasperated expression and his mumbled, "Point taken."

Eli and I remained quiet after that little argument, both preoccupied with searching through the darkness for another way out. From what I could tell, I had stumbled into a room made only of staircases. Everywhere I looked, and for each staircase Eli and I climbed, there was another staircase. Each set was made of solid stone, with little ridges along the edges for the toes of leather boots to dig into and find purchase. We had little difficulty in climbing them, but climbing staircases _does_ eventually become tiresome. Little Eli whined constantly.

"My feet hurt. My legs hurt. My _butt_ hurts. Do you think I broke something? I think I broke something…"

Ignoring his little Pity Party, I climbed the rest of the stone stairs and, after reaching the top of yet another long staircase, I looked around in search of anything interesting or noteworthy. I pulled the leather bound journal out from my pack and began rifling through the torn yellow pages. In the middle of the book appeared to be a picture of the King climbing these exact staircases to his…

"Holy Hell," I mumbled in shock and simply stared – first, at the journal, and then at the last staircase looming in front of me. _Could it be?_

My heart raced, blood pumping furiously in my ears. I stepped forward, taking the first step, and the second step, and another – and then I was racing through the darkness, climbing the staircase. My boots slapped against the stone tiles in time to the heartbeat singing inside – _thud, thud, thud_ – and distantly, I could hear Eli calling for me. All I could hear, though, were the words from _The King and the Dragon._

 _"'Prince Thorin would become the King Under the Mountain. He swore it.'"_

Hope raced through me.

"Sammy…"

At the top of the steps, I heard him call for me, my name a song. The Dwarf – for with his short and stocky stature, the darkly handsome male could not be anything but Dwarvish – climbed to his feet, stepping forward and leaving behind his granite and gold inlaid throne. He reached for me, one palm clasped around the hilt of his sheathed sword and the other outstretched, palm up. As if hypnotized, I met him at the edge of stone dais, right hand stretched out to meet his. His expression softened, and I smiled faintly. Thick fingertips barely brushed mine, and then –"SAMMY!"

Everything righted itself, the world suddenly falling back into place and titling correctly upon its axis again. I stumbled back, nearly falling back down the stairs, but Eli responded instinctually. He thrust his hands out, pushing until I could stand without help. My heart racing, I thanked him. Obviously pleased, Eli puffed out his scrawny little chest and smirked back at me.

"What the Hell, Eli?" I grumbled down at the small boy, playfully reaching out to punch him in the arm. The Elvish boy punched back, the hit connecting with my upper arm. I pretended to wince for effect, though I had to admit that it didn't really hurt that much. I frowned. It hurt more than it _used_ to hurt, though…

"What the Hell, Sammy?" Eli copied the words with his hands to his hips, mimicking my pose as well. He eyed the strangely vacant expression on my paler than normal face with misgiving and joked, "Seriously! You look like you've seen a ghost…"

Slowly turning back around to stare at the throne, I thought of that handsome Dwarf, his gruff voice calling out my name and his large hand reaching out for mine. And I softly whispered, "I…I think you're right, Eli."

* * *

***Author's Note***

Hey! :) Thank you all for the amazing reviews, and I have taken all the pairing ideas into consideration. No promises, but I plan to have Eli with Tilda (they will be around ten or eleven and sort of smitten) and Fili/OC. I have not decided about Kili yet, but it might be Kili/OC. Any other requests, feel free to review with them! :)

More character development in this chapter, and bits and pieces of Erebor tossed in for fun. What do you all think about that little cliffhanger, though, huh? Hee, hee, hee! *Evil Smile*

 **Question:** What do you all think about Nori? Just curious! :)

 **PLEASE READ AND REVIEW!**

 _Update = ~30 Reviews_

:)


	4. Chapter 3: A Thousand and One Nights

~Chapter Three~

A Thousand and One Nights

 _Now It Seems I'm Fading;  
All My Dreams Are Not Worth Saving.  
I've Done My Share of Waiting…  
I've Still Nowhere Else To Go.  
So I Wait For You To…  
Take Me All The Way._

 _Seems You're Wanting Me To Stay,  
But My Dreams Would Surely Waste Away,  
And I Still Have Nowhere Else To Go.._

 _Push Me Under,  
Pull Me Further,  
Take Me All The Way._

 _~Take Me Under,_ by Three Days Grace

Disclaimer: Me No Own; You No Sue.

* * *

 **At the top of the steps, I heard him call for me, my name a song. The Dwarf – for with his short and stocky stature, the darkly handsome male could not be anything but Dwarvish – climbed to his feet, stepping forward and leaving behind his granite and gold inlaid throne. He reached for me, one palm clasped around the hilt of his sheathed sword and the other outstretched, palm up. As if hypnotized, I met him at the edge of stone dais, right hand stretched out to meet his. His expression softened, and I smiled faintly. Thick fingertips barely brushed mine, and then –"SAMMY!"**

 **"What the Hell, Eli?" I grumbled down at the small boy, playfully reaching out to punch him in the arm. The Elvish boy punched back, the hit connecting with my upper arm. I pretended to wince for effect, though I had to admit that it didn't really hurt that much. I frowned. It hurt more than it _used_ to hurt, though…**

 **"What the Hell, Sammy?" Eli copied the words with his hands to his hips, mimicking my pose as well. He eyed the strangely vacant expression on my paler than normal face with misgiving and joked, "Seriously! You look like you've seen a ghost…"**

 **Slowly turning back around to stare at the throne, I thought of that handsome Dwarf, his gruff voice calling out my name and his large hand reaching out for mine. And I softly whispered, "I…I think you're right, Eli."**

* * *

Dark hair and beard, ice blue irises, and large hands, thick with calluses, continued to haunt me. The Dwarvish King had not smiled, but his expression had been so warm and gentle…and I had the strangest feeling of being safe, of being cared for. I could remember him clearly, like I had been standing right there, right in front of him. That, however, was _impossible_ because King Thorin the Triumphant had been dead and buried within the tombs of Lonely Mountain for nearly ten thousand long years!

King Thorin was a memory, a ghost…

Nobody seemed to have told _him_ that little tidbit. Because Thorin had continually wandered in and out of my dreams for the last month, sometimes walking beside me and saying nothing, and other times talking slowly in a quiet but deep voice that sent shivers through me. He was proud, and his stance was strong, with facial features and hair that most Dwarrowdams would consider boring and lackluster in comparison to the more intricately bearded and beaded of Dwarrows. While I was mostly Dwarvish, I was also descended from the Race of Men. Even with his shorter beard and smoother features, I was attracted to him – King Thorin, the long dead Dwarvish King.

At the moment, for example, I dreamed of being in bed with him. We weren't doing anything of _that_ nature, but given his time period of origin, being seated beside the fully grown male atop the bed – fully clothed – would still be considered scandalous to most. He was quiet, with his head bowed low, and his face tired, pained in its set. King Thorin murmured something quiet, so inaudible that I could not hear the words, and I slowly reached out for him, touching at his shoulder with feather light fingertips.

What had made him so sad…?

The Dwarvish King startled, whirling around to stare down at me, a glimmer of hope in the tilt of his lips. Beautiful blue eyes were wide with wonder. "Sammy," King Thorin whispered, "I had not thought that you would wake. Oin said…" Here, Thorin cleared his throat, licking dry lips that I couldn't help but stare at with curious eyes. "…that you might not make it."

His voice cracked down the middle, and I reached for him again, touching the soft leather cord around his neck. It was made of cured leather, its color lighter brown with little flecks of black, and carried at its base a small, misshapen silver bead. A single blue gemstone, tiny and barely noticeable, twinkled from the big belly of the carved bead. It glittered like ice in the sunlight. _Like his eyes._

"You're still wearing it," I whispered, hand falling to the bead and letting bandaged fingers trail down the smooth edges of the silver hair adornment. I frowned. How did I know it was meant for his hair? It was on a necklace cord, but I had the feeling that it had been made for his hair, specifically the lock of black hair swinging – empty – beside his left ear. "Why…?"

The Dwarrow lowered his head to stare down at the tiny bead cradled delicately in his enormous palm, which lifted the leather cord higher for him to see. A strange softness glimmered within his icy blue eyes. He glanced back up, eyes on me, and gruffly rumbled, "Because I l–"

A ringtone – _Fairytale,_ by Neja – began singing loudly in my ear. I recognized it immediately; it was a song that I had heard from the radio and instantly loved because of its likeness to the story tale book I carried everywhere. I used to sing it to little Eli to get him to fall asleep, before I left for college four years ago. Eli still loved to it but denied, with bright red cheeks, his attachment to the lullaby. Hearing it _now_ was not, however, smile inducing or nice because it had rudely interrupted what appeared to be the beginnings of a wonderful dream.

King Thorin had been about to say…

My face flushed in embarrassment, I squirmed around in my warm sleeping bag, thighs clenched together at the thought of having the undivided attention of the handsome Dwarf King. He was strong, with the trademark big muscles and thick torso of the Dwarves. He also had the aura of pride that I both loved and hated about those with the red hot blood of Dwarrows. Above all else, however, I had been pulled in by the incredible intelligence in those blue irises. King Thorin was smart, with the tiniest flicker of humor and mischief hiding within his soul.

My heart quickened.

… _Sammy…_

Sleepily, I opened watery blue eyes, swiping at the moisture and sleep caked dust left there by the Sand Man. Small fingers started rummaging around in the rumpled blankets for the culprit behind the very rude wakeup call. My blue eyes squinted furiously in the light of the glowing white screen. A picture of Eli smiled back at me, with his mouth full of braces and his wild black hair curlier than ever. Laughter bubbled out from within me as my stomach warmed, happiness burning within it.

"Hey, Eli," I warmly greeted the boy by speaking into the cell phone. I bit back a yawn as my younger companion happily returned the greeting, registered the lingering sleepiness in my voice, and then snorted into his end of the line.

"Sleepyhead," Eli teased, snickering shortly at my expense. My little friend seemed to be rather amused that I had actually slept in for once. If Eli had been here, his scrawny chest would've been puffed out with boyish – excuse me, _manly_ – pride. "I've been up since _five!_ "

"Some of us do not take Ritalin," I retorted without malice. I could hear the repetitive sounds of hammering in the background, and Eli had to raise his voice to be heard above it, meaning the boy had snuck into the archaeological site without adult permission or supervision – again.

"Actually, I, uh…kinda forgot to take it this morning," Eli sheepishly admitted, and probably with his trademark smile, too. A cute smile, when used in combination with Eli's Puppy Dog Eyes, usually translated to a plea of: _Please don't tell Mom and Dad!_

An exasperated sigh escaped into the phone and to his ears. I hummed in thought, listening to his anxious breathing and pretending to have to think about it, and finally said, "Okay, okay! Promise I'll keep it a secret, but…"

Little Eli cheered loudly, remembered too late that being in Erebor without me was a no-no, and promptly shushed himself with a giggle. "You're the best, Sammy!" Eli whispered into his phone.

"… _but_ only if you promise to get lunch and have it ready at the usual spot by the time I get there," I finished then, the sound of my amusement ringing in the words. Immediately, Eli agreed to the terms, said his goodbye, and hung up.

Amused, I stretched leisurely and let my neck, shoulders, and spine crack in quick succession. I smiled and purred lowly in approval, feeling the stiffness leave my sore muscles. It had been a while since I last put forth _this_ much effort, at least physically, and doing all of that hard work made it easier to sleep at night but harder to get moving in the morning. A shower, I thought, might help matters some.

Unfortunately, I was not graced with too much hot water because of the time of day. Our water tank might be big and warmed by the heat of the sun streaming into the campsite, but with all of these people using the water, I barely had five minutes of it before the clean water streaming down from the metal showerhead turned to ice. I shivered, face scrunched in distaste, and hurried to finish rinsing off the soap. It trickled down my shaved legs to collect atop the smoothed trenches that had been dug out to put in a row of showers and toilets.

As I wrapped the towel around myself, I stepped out of the makeshift shower stall and thought: _At least I could actually shower in privacy this morning, since most everybody else decided to start early today. Small luxuries like that are nice._

Archaeology was my passion. I loved it.

There were many downsides, however, to being in the field…

For example, I was accustomed to showering quickly in cold water, and with little privacy, because I had done it at all of the other campsites since I was a young girl. Rarely did Daddy and I stay at our small condo back in New York City. In going to college, I was spoiled with the luxury of bathroom doors that actually _locked_ and shower stalls made of tinted glass – rather than open skies, dirt floors, and nearly translucent plastic curtains. So I was grumpier about getting ready in the morning that I had been before I left.

My hair, still wet, was pulled back into two braids that I tied together at my nape. After brushing out the darker than usual blonde strands and pulling them back, I yanked out my newest pair of jeans – which still had plenty holes in the knees, thanks to my clumsiness – and tugged them up. I picked out an old, black sweatshirt, since there was a chill in the air, and pulled it atop the blue long sleeved shirt that I liked to wear. It was the exact shade of blue said to be favored by the line of Durin.

King Thorin was wearing his blue tunic, embossed with silver thread and the mark of his line, each time I dreamed of him.

"… _Sammy, I had not thought that you would wake."_

"If Eli hadn't called, then I _wouldn't_ have…"

I grumbled halfheartedly.

Five minutes later, I was speed walking through the Hall of Gold, down the hall by the Royal Library, and into the darker depths of the Kingdom Under the Mountain. I paused at the spot where I had fallen into, and through, the wall, warily looking both ways. I sighed with relief. Nobody else was coming down the tunnel-turned-shortcut. Even Thing One and Thing Two, who had taken to stalking me, were nowhere in sight!

Carefully, I moved aside the large but inconspicuous brown tarp that Eli and I had nicked from the bog supply bins in order to cover up our gaping hole in the wall. We were still trying to find something – anything – else to prove our worth to the veteran archaeologists, like Mr. Black and Mr. Bill. Letting the others know that Eli and I had stumbled into the path leading to the Throne Room was not conducive to keeping it secret long enough to finish mapping out the rest of the large room and finding the best of the treasures within it. We had both agreed to hide the discovery until _after_ finding something else of value to share with the rest of the team.

"You in here, Eli?" I called while picking my way over a number of large rocks and bits of fallen marble and stone, which had dropped from the pillars above with the passing of time. He swiftly answered, and I could just make out his voice coming from behind the throne. I quickly climbed the stairs leading to him – and to lunch.

"Here's your sandwich," Eli cheerfully announced, plopping the turkey sandwich down in front of me. A bag of potato chips followed quickly, the yellow plastic bag landing atop the top slice of bread with a soft _plop._

Immediately, I dug into my meal, feeling hungrier than I had before climbing all of those stairs winding through the Treasure Room. I had always been heftier than most, being of Dwarvish descent, but after climbing up and down those stairs all week, I had lost about five pounds. I finished about half of the sandwich before gracing him with my mumbled, "thanks," and the biggest smile I could muster. My cheeks were puffed out with a mouthful of food, and Eli laughed, snorting into his bottle of water.

"You look like that really big college intern – the one with the brown hair and the stupid smile – that talks with his mouth full all the time," Eli laughed, while also acting out his story. He crossed both of his eyes and pulled his ears out to mime being of the Race of Men.

"Hey!" I protested with a small laugh at the silliness of his expression; Eli looked like Mr. Bill. "We Dwarrowdams believe our wonderful beards to be quite distinctive!" My fingers trailed down my cheeks and chin, only to find them both bare of facial hair. _Shocker!_ "You should know that I'm no ordinary human girl!"

Ten thousand long years ago, most Dwarrowdams, if not all of them, had facial hair of some sort, while I did not have any. They had beards or mustaches. Some had beards _and_ mustaches! All of them braided intricate designs into their hair, beards, and mustaches, and lined their hair with the rich splendor of beads and precious stones to denote their station to other Dwarves. As time went on, and the Dwarves, Elves, Men, and Hobbits began to take partners outside of their own people, rather than explicitly in their own races, a more common appearance came about. An average person was about five foot five to six feet tall, with straight hair, darkish eyes, and rounder ears. Only males had facial hair nowadays. Thank God!

"What beard?" Eli asked with dancing green eyes. He shifted, pulling his lower legs beneath his thighs and resting his bottom atop them, the bottoms of his sneakers peeking out from under his black jeans. With his freckles, pointy ears, and curly hair, Eli did not fit the description of _an average person._ Neither did I.

My golden hair, for example, was a rarity amongst modern Dwarves.

So instead of verbally answering his question, I pulled both braids forward and tied them together beneath my mouth, turning them into makeshift facial hair. I solemnly stared at Eli, blinked slowly at him, and solemnly pointed to the – _literally_ braided – beard. And Eli stared back. _Blink, blink._ _Stare._ As I continued to stare so seriously at him, however, Eli lost his composure and began laughing hysterically. Another sip of water nearly spurted out from between his lips at my response.

"What is so amusing, Master Elf?" I asked him in the haughtiest tone of voice that I could, lifting my nose up and curling it at the boy. If I didn't find it so racist, I might have teased him about his ears. But Eli was also easily embarrassed about them. So I kept my mouth shut.

"You talked like Gandalf the Grey," Eli wheezed in reply, long hands holding his stomach and tears of laughter streaming down from between his clenched eyelids. He peeked out at me. More laughter ensured. "Oh, G-G- _God_ …!"

"Humph," I grunted at him, my own palms stroking down the beard I had made for myself. "It matters not, for I am a great Wizard! You laughed at the Great Gandalf the Grey! So I curse you!" I tackled him, pinning him to the ground and tickling his armpits. "Hocus Pocus! Abracadabra!"

Little Eli began to shriek in laughter, slender body squirming and wiggling back and forth like a worm. I continued tickling him, and the exact moment I poked all ten fingertips into his already heaving sides, his whole body twitched before arching forward like a wooden bow. Using my extra weight, I gently pushed him back down and continued tickling him, until Eli kicked his knees up and pushed back. I was shoved to the ground, and Eli bolted by, lunch forgotten, backpack swinging from his slowly broadening shoulders.

Smiling widely, I hurriedly wrapped and stored the remains of his lunch – and mine – in my open pack. I shoved the trash into the front pocket and then pulled the backpack on, my arms up, curling around the straps. I stepped forward. Blue eyes moved easily, swiftly, around the cloud of darkness blanketing the Throne Room. After being within the mountain for the last month, I had become accustomed to being underground, and the shadows seemed to move as my eyes sifted through them in search of Eli. A soft _crack_ , immediately followed by a cry of "shit," echoed through the empty bowels of Erebor. He giggled, and I smirked. _Bingo!_

Lips pulling backwards, I cupped both hands over my mouth and teasingly called, "Marco!"

Another colorful expletive screamed through the darkness, but then Eli laughed, giving in, and replied, "Polo!"

My boots climbed another set of stairs and pushed against them, knocking layers of dirt off with each quick step. I didn't bother being quiet because Eli, with his more sensitive hearing, could probably hear me coming for miles. Dwarves were not naturally quiet, and being heavier than most girls, I was steadier of foot and better equipped for running short distances. As Ori, the author of the journal in my pack, had written – " _Dwarves are natural sprinters!_ "

Face alight with laughter, I called, "Marco!"

And Eli happily screamed back, "Polo!"

As I continued to run, another set of stairs vanished, falling downward into the darkness trailing into the Throne Room. I did not recognize this part of it, but I refused to let my momentary fear of the unknown stop me. Eli had been brave enough – _or stupid enough,_ the worried part of me mumbled in disagreement – to run up a new set of stairs and into a section of the Throne Room that had yet to be completely mapped out paper. We were in uncharted territory, but Eli and I would figure it out and then move on. Experience had taught the two of us not to stop for too long, think for too long, because if you did, then…

 _Suitcase in hand, Mom firmly closed the door to the house behind her, leaving without even a goodbye. I toddled after her with short legs, tears and snot streaming down my pale face, and sobbed, "Mama," again and again. Daddy continued to hold onto me, eyes wet, but I struggled against him. "MAMA!"_

…You would get left behind.

"Marco!"

"Polo!"

My calls, and his, seemed to be getting closer and closer together, bouncing back and forth off of the walls like tennis balls. They echoed in the empty spaces and melded together, becoming one call of "Marco Polo, Marco Polo, Marco Polo!" It was creepy, and loud, but also _exciting!_

We had been working hard for weeks, and Eli had not much time to relax, to be young. I missed it, losing all control and acting like a wild child, but I was supposed to be the responsible one. I was supposed to be the adult. Because I had unofficially adoptedEli at fourteen, I had stopped having so much fun, instead trying to set a good example for Eli. My personality toughened, becoming serious and mature, and I missed out on some good ol' childhood pastimes – like playing _Marco Polo._

A shadow, shaped like the small and slender form of a crouching boy, brushed against the wall. It vanished around another corner, swiftly moving onward, but I stopped to clutch at the stone walls while gasping for breath. Eli was so much faster! He had shorter legs, but the boy had obviously inherited something other than his pointy little ears and sensitive hearing from his ancestors. My own were only willing to share their short stature, their stout build, and their quick tempers with me.

"Jesus, Eli really needs to lay off of the Red Bull," I griped, leaning bodily against the wall, head back and both hands splayed atop the stones that had been pasted together with a substance quite similar to cement. My fingers caught on a small bump, and I curiously pushed at it, chipped nails digging into the little grooves.

Then, I heard it, a small but ominous –

 _Click._

Before I could release even _one_ curse or swear word, I tumbled backwards and into the darkness – and for the second time, too. This was quickly becoming habit; I rested against a wall, which would disintegrate beneath me without warning, and then I would fall backwards into the abyss. One would _think_ that I might have learned something from the fall I had taken into the Throne Room, but _no_. Sammy Steel just _had_ to be stubborn. _Damn Dwarvish blood…_

After landing on my poor ass and hands, I glanced around the big, and seemingly empty, room in search of whatever must be important enough to warrant hiding it behind that Invisible Dwarf Door. "There are _way_ too many secrets tunnels in this place," I whined, before standing and tentatively rubbing at my wounded tailbone; it burned with pain. "Ouch…"

My butt ached like a mothertrucker, but that did not stop me! I began searching in the nearby vicinity for anything interesting, though with more wariness than before. This particular room was obviously hidden for a _reason._ Whatever had been placed in it had been put here for safe keeping, so no one could take off with it, break it, etcetera. I smiled and bounced forward to explore again in an eager way.

 _Regardless,_ I thought excitedly, _whatever it was_ _ **must**_ _be important!_

Maybe Eli and I could finally share our secret, proving our naysayers wrong! Yeah!

Other than the one secret door I had stumbled through, I did not find another way out. There were stone pillars keeping the ceiling and floor separated, like two quarreling children. While I avoided coming in direct contact with them, for fear of tumbling through yet _another_ secret door, I didnote the little etchings marked into all of them. I documented them with my camera and the little kit I had that let me make impressions with quick drying cement. My final piece was put in one of the quart sized Ziplocs I always carried around while exploring the innards of the old and mysterious Erebor.

My entire body vibrated with the force of my curiosity, the sporadic tremors shaking through my arms and hands, the latter of which nearly jolted the small cement tablet too much to be read. I eventually calmed down to carefully translate the Dwarf Runes. _'Stand by the gray stone when the thrush knocks, and the setting sun, with the last light of Durin's Day, will shine upon the keyhole.'_

Eyebrow lifted, I mused about all of the possible meanings of the wordy puzzle in my palms. A thrush was a wild bird, and the last of the setting sun usually meant first moonlight, and Durin's Day was…supposedly in the Fall? What about the keyhole, though? A lock would obviously require its key to be unlocked. Where, then, _was_ its mysterious key?

Better yet…

What did it unlock?

Moving onward, I discovered nothing else of importance, save one stone pedestal that seemed to rise up out of the middle of the extensively tiled floor like a stalagmite. Smack dab in its center, I observed from afar, was a cushion made velvet and little silk tassels. A fine layer of dust was sprinkled atop the fluffy plush cushion – and the thick silver key that rested, tantalizingly, in between two of the blue folds.

Being superstitious, I stared blankly at the key and resisted the strong desire to poke it. Dwarves were well known for fiercely, and almost rabidly, guarding their treasures. They had created the Invisible Dwarf Doors. They had barricaded the Dwarf Holds within the Blue Mountains, the Iron Hills, and the Lonely Mountain against all outside interference until the rebuilding of the ancient Kingdom Under the Mountain. A key to Erebor was, without doubt, booby trapped.

A small part of me wanted to childishly giggle at the word _booby,_ but I promptly shut her up. While I had been partially correct in my assumptions about the puzzle etched into the pillars, finding the key was unexpected; I stared at the silver key in complete disbelief. _What the…?_ _ **This**_ _is what was so incredibly freaking important that somebody had to lock it up?!_

Face scrunched in confusion, I warily approached the stone pedestal, observing the strange key more closely – albeit without actually touching it, its cushion, _or_ its stand. _Who the Hell locks the_ _ **key**_ _up? Invisible Dwarf Doors and Locked Up Keys? Is that a pun, some sort of ancient Dwarvish humor maybe…?_

Eventually, I decided that standing in the same room as the mysterious key would be relatively harmless, and thus safe for Elijah. "Hey, Eli, look what I found!" I shouted and, knowing the boy would think I was simply trying to smoke him out of his hiding spot, I added, "It's some really weird key! Any clue what it might be for?"

When Eli did not reply, I waited for a moment, worriedly turned around, and bolted back to the secret door, peering to the left, the right, and then straight into the darkness. There was no one nearby, and nobody replied to the worried calls I screamed into the empty Throne Room. I called, "Eli? This isn't funny, Eli! Where are you?!"

An ice cold shriek cracked through the air like bullets. It bounced off of the walls, much like our earlier cries of _Marco_ and _Polo_ , though these cries did not sound happy or amused, only scared. Terrified, I grimly noted, would be the best description for it. I had barely thought those words, when I made the decision to leave the secret room and find Eli. So single minded the searching, I found him within seconds, and all because of the two ton boulder chasing Eli through Erebor. My mind and body both stopped, mouth hanging wide in shock because, really, who would've expected to be part of a scene straight out of _Indiana Jones_?

Suddenly, Eli tripped, his gangly legs catching on a rock sticking out of the rock wall and nearly sending him falling, face first, to his death. He stumbled, whimpering in pain; the painful cut and the big, rampaging boulder were enough to make the normally happy little Elf rightfully afraid for his life. A sharp turn down a steep descent caused the boulder to speed back up. Everything seemed frozen in that moment, suspended in time. Little Eli shrieked again, frightened by his close call, and, big hazel irises meeting mine, screamed out for me.

"SAMMY!"

"ELI!"

Pause. Fast Forward. Everything seemed to speed back up. Eli sprinted down the steep hallways and then jumped to the nearest staircase in the hopes of losing the boulder, but the boulder seemed to be under a spell of sorts. It followed behind him like a puppy – or a couple of heat seeking missiles. I hesitated, frightened and uncertain what to do, and then bolted for the staircase beside his and reached out for him, pulling him down about ten feet and into me. Screeching to a stop, the boulder turned back around, dropped, and began to follow us.

A scream was pulled deep from within, drenching the world in cold fear, and I shoved Eli ahead, pushing his little body with all of the strength in me. At that moment, I thanked the old Dwarven Gods – the Valar – while also praying desperately for an answer, a solution. _Where do I go? Where do I hide?!_

Glancing backwards over a small shoulder, Eli let his green eyes widen in horror and fearfully sobbed, "W-We're not going to m-m- _make_ it!" The preteen was attempting to be brave, but I could hear the high pitched panic in his voice, making him sound about four years old again.

" _Keep moving, Eli!_ " I gasped out the order, refusing to admit to believing the boy to be correct. He must not have heard the fear in my words because Eli obediently screeched around another pillar, boots shrieking against the tiled floors and leaving ugly black marks in their wake. I followed closely at his heels.

Another boulder dropped down from the ceiling, called forth by another trap that Eli or I must've triggered. "What now?" Eli wailed, while furiously pumping his little arms and legs in time to the quick heartbeat screaming in his ears.

Most would refer to me as a pessimist, but I preferred the term realist; I quickly decided not to bother with a plan because I did not know all of the variables involved and screamed, "How should I know?! We can't keep running from it forever, though!"

 _Duh, Sammy!_

Then –

"IN HERE!" I bellowed, yet again finding the strength to keep moving on. If I was correct, then speaking part of the words engraved into the pillars of that weird chamber would counteract the entire passage. _It would lock the door!_

Panting, I rushed behind the small boy, hands clenched into fists, forearms swinging faster back and forth, and back and forth. My legs were not much longer than his, but I was so determined to keep running that I managed to overtake the shorter boy, though only by a couple of feet. I pulled him along by the arm, my sweaty fingers clasped around his. We passed through the gaping mouth of the Invisible Dwarf Door.

"'Stand by the grey stone when the thrush knocks!'" I screamed, but _that_ particular phrase only encouraged the door to open up even more – and wide enough that that damn boulder could nearly fit _through_ it. It slammed into the wall, again and again and again, seeking entrance. "DAMN IT ALL TO FUCKING HELL!"

A piece of the ceiling crashed down in front of him, brought down by the force with which the boulder struck the walls, and Eli screamed, his heart in his throat. I collided with him because Eli had stopped, flinching back to avoid being hit by the debris raining down on us. We each smacked forward into the pillar, thusly unsettling the cushion that rested atop it. Briefly, I considered snatching the key and shoving into any random old hole next to the door, but I chucked that idea out the window at seeing how close I would have to get to the boulder.

Instead, I hastily attempted to close the door again, the words stumbling out from my mouth and tumbling into the chamber. "'Setting sun, with the last light of Durin's Day, will shine upon the keyhole!'"

Nothing happened…

I dry heaved.

"Look, Sammy!" Eli screeched, with his small finger shakily pointing at the Invisible Dwarf Door. My head snapped back up, and I stared in shock at the secret door, which had started glowing brightly and shrinking in size. It shut with a short but tremendous _boom_ , but not before…

"HERE IT COMES AGAIN!"

Eli and I screamed.

We immediately turned tail to scramble in the opposite direction, both searching for another exit, though I didn't hold out much hope for it because I had not found anything earlier while looking around in the chamber. Our only hope was a sharp fall below, to the remains of the old staircase that must have connected this chamber to the floor below this one. So I bulldozed into Eli, who had stopped cold at the sight of the impending fall, and wordlessly urged him to begin climbing down, frantically glancing between him and the boulder heading straight for us.

"Hold onto me!" I begged him. My voice, thick with tears, reached his ears. Eli clung onto my shoulders and waist, holding tightly by curling his sticklike limbs over me. More tears came as my own ears caught the faint sound of his nearly silent sobs. "Eli, I'm so –"

Before I could apologize, however, I heard that same ominous _cracking_ sound that preceded the opening of the Invisible Dwarf Door. Rocks exploded from the jagged edge of the floor hanging above us, and the boulder just burst from it, casting dust and debris in its wake like a shooting star. It was silent, motionless for another minute, and then it went flying into the dark abyss below. We waited, breath caught, and waited for the impending…

 **BOOM!**

Earth shattered; the force of that impact rumbled through the entirety of the Lonely Mountain. The Ancient Kingdom of Erebor wavered, its fortress and its cities and its mines trembling in surprise. With sweaty hands, Eli clung to me, and I clung to the rocks biting into mine. Mysterious explosions shattered the silence, fire rushed at us, and – " _ELIJAH!_ "

A Dwarf, his forehead bloody and his crown made of silver thorns, crouched down and leaned forward to touch his fingers to mine as my mouth opened to shriek for Eli. He slowly tumbled backwards, face pale and big green eyes wide with fear, before sinking down into the darkness. My hand reached out for his, but Thorin caught it instead. The Dwarf King stretched the thick digits further, reaching for me. Fingertips just barely grazing his, I stared into his pained face, but to be honest, I did not really _want_ to be rescued. Because Eli had died, and I still lived. How was that fair?

King Thorin could clearly read the thoughts whispering in my eyes. Why should Thorin care? He was a ghost, and long dead. Face wet with his tears, Thorin still scrambled forward, his fingers stretched out for mine, and helplessly bellowed, "NO!"

I smiled sadly at him, tears in my own eyes, and then…

I let go.

* * *

***Author's Note***

Woot, woot! Extra long chapter! *Celebratory Dance* :D

Wow! _Thanks for the tremendous amount of support and interest that this story has received!_ I wanted this chapter out earlier, but I went back and changed several things in my (pretty tentative) outline because I had two epiphanies! I do plan, but I also like to go with the flow. My Muse is pretty mischievous that way. (On that note, I hope this chapter turned out okay!) ;)

We have now officially finished the first part of the story! We are "done" with Earth! We are now on to...Middle Earth! Let the torture – uh, fun – begin! :D

 **PLEASE READ AND REVIEW!**

 _Update = ~40 Reviews_

:)


	5. Chapter 4: Street Rats

~Chapter Four~

Street Rats

 _Sometimes, I Know There Is Nothing To Say,  
So Do I Pick Up My Puzzle and Just Walk Away?  
Do I Follow My Conscience?  
Am I Mock Sincere?  
I Don't Know What I'm Doing Here._

 _I'll Say It's Not Surprising –  
You're Sweet Talking; Mesmerizing.  
Feels Like My Sun Is Rising…_

 _Is This Fiction Reality?_

 _~Don't Mess With Me,_ by Poets of the Fall

Disclaimer: Me No Own; You No Sue.

* * *

 **BOOM!**

 **Earth shattered; the force of that impact rumbled through the entirety of the Lonely Mountain. The Ancient Kingdom of Erebor wavered, its fortress and its cities and its mines trembling in surprise. With sweaty hands, Eli clung to me, and I clung to the rocks biting into mine. Mysterious explosions shattered the silence, fire rushed at us, and – " _ELIJAH!_ "**

 **A Dwarf, his forehead bloody and his crown made of silver thorns, crouched down and leaned forward to touch his fingers to mine as my mouth opened to shriek for Eli. He slowly tumbled backwards, face pale and big green eyes wide with fear, before sinking down into the darkness. My hand reached out for his, but Thorin caught it instead. The Dwarf King stretched the thick digits further, reaching for me. Fingertips just barely grazing his, I stared into his pained face, but to be honest, I did not really _want_ to be rescued. Because Eli had died, and I still lived. How was that fair?**

 **King Thorin could clearly read the thoughts whispering in my eyes. Why should Thorin care? He was a ghost, and long dead. Face wet with his tears, Thorin still scrambled forward, his fingers stretched out for mine, and helplessly bellowed, "NO!"**

 **I smiled sadly at him, tears in my own eyes, and then…**

 **I let go.**

* * *

Cold. Dark. Only those two words made any sense. It was _cold_ and _dark._ More importantly, _I_ was cold – chilled to the bone and almost numb, truthfully – and I could not see anything at all. My heart hammered, slow heartbeat quickening in fear. Panicked, I attempted to shift, to feel anything but cold and blind and **scared.** Nothing moved, muscles and limbs flat refusing to budge, even as my mind screamed silent commands at them to _move, walk, stand._

Paralysis was scarier than words could describe. My sudden and inexplicable blindness was even more pressing and frightening than being frozen stiff. Paralysis _and_ blindness, though? Traumatic.

As I inhaled and exhaled quickly – _too quickly,_ I thoughtto myself – I started to black out, the edges of reality turning gray and fuzzy from the lack of air. So I forced myself into a complete mental silence, halting all the thoughts, all the fears. I counted from one to ten, and then ten to twenty, all the while picturing Thing One and Thing Two dressed in pink tutus and dancing around Erebor for King Thorin and the Thirteen. A startled, wheezing laugh escaped at the bizarre but funny imagery those thoughts invoked within me.

Against all odds, I finally managed to calm myself down and breathe normally again, with only the occasional hitch in my gasps. My mind, fueled with its fresh oxygen, now sought to sift through those last couple of memories. A boulder, and cliff, and darkness, and – falling.

… _I remember falling!_

My stomach swirled around with another wave of fear.

Had I somehow damaged the optical tissues or nerves that would let light into the irises in that fall? I was no optometrist, but that sounded like something that might pose a problem. Mouth trembling, I remained still, in the darkness, and began to worry again. _Is so much force bad for them? Is this blindness temporary or…more permanent? What will I do if I'm suddenly blind? Can I still be an archaeologist?!_

What about Eli? Eli was _my_ responsibility! I was supposed to keep him safe! How could I do that if I went blind? Eli was a small but hyper handful and –

Wait…

 _Why do I feel like something – or someone – is missing?_

"…Eli?" I whispered, the shock of the situation forcing the words to my mouth. A startled, half-hysterical laugh escaped immediately afterwards. I could talk, and if I really concentrated, I could get up! It _hurt_ like Hell _,_ but I could do it!

Grunting in pain, I slowly pushed forward into a crouch, palms splayed and knees braced against the hard dirt. My hip cracked in protest, and I grimaced at the resulting ache that burned through the bones, before attempting to stand again. I wobbled, staggered to the left, and slammed into a small tree; its little limbs trembled, shivering quietly in protest. I glared at it and rubbed at my sore shoulder blade. _This is all Eli's fault! Just wait until I get ahold of that little butthead!_

"…Five more minutes, Mom!"

Well! Speak of the Devil! I could hear Eli softly whining in his sleep, and his voice sounded close enough that I allowed myself to relax somewhat. I couldn't really afford to be too calm, what with the unfamiliarity of the situation and this place, but hearing the little Elf had taken about five pounds from the weight on my shoulders. Now, if I could only _see_ and _feel_ him…

 _Blink, blink._ My vision slowly returned with each flutter of the eyelids, each sweep of eyelashes brushing against slightly wet cheeks. They were now sticky with salt, the water in them making little lights dance in front of my eyes. Eyebrows lowered, I stretched aching limbs, fingers up, only to discover that silent tears had trickled down my pale cheeks while I freaked out earlier.

Of course, if I was completely honest with myself, I was _still_ freaking out, but…

Embarrassed at my weakness, I hurriedly swiped at the tearstains, palms brushing from beside my nose and outward, to the ear. Then, I slowly, and cautiously, moved forward into the light. I sucked in a gasp as my soon as my eyes were assaulted by the stark brightness of dawn and, like a vampire, hissed in irritation and ducked back into the safety of the shadows. From there, I readjusted to the light, all the while observing my new surroundings with trepidation and confusion. Little details slammed into me one after the other in quick succession.

It was cold.

Early morning.

I was on a street.

There were people.

… _Why are there people here?_

People hurried by without glancing at me. I gaped at them, shocked by their presence. Heads of dark hair were covered by dingy cloaks, shawls, and hats, dirty and grim faces somewhat hidden beneath them. These people – these Men – walked strangely, too. Long noses were pointed to the ground, mile-long legs stiff and ramrod straight in leather boots, and shoulders hunched to ward off the slight chill in the air. My own arms started to cool at the sudden reminder of the unexpected change in temperature, their tiny hairs standing at attention and little goosebumps decorating the white flesh like little pebbles. I shivered, feeling the bite of the early morning weather which, I suddenly remembered, should've been _much_ warmer, given that it was mid-February in New Zealand, by Lake Pukaki.

Although his ancestors were originally from somewhere in the vicinity of Australia and New Zealand, both Daddy and I had been born in the northern United States. We were accustomed to starting the year in January with loads of snowstorms and ice. It transitioned into Spring around May, then Summer, Fall, and back to Winter. From my most recent experiences in the Southern Hemisphere, however, and particularly in New Zealand, I understood _this_ kind of weather to be more common in July and August. I whimpered, the earlier fear returning with a vengeance. Where _were_ we?

This was not right. No. My brain began to short-circuit. _No, no, no!_ Nothing made _sense._

Eli and I…

We were _alone_ in the depths of _Erebor,_ beneath the Lonely Mountain! He and I had both agreed to keep our discoveries, and thus our whereabouts, a complete secret! That was something that I deeply regretted at the moment, but what the fuck could I do about it now? Nothing! Because I was surrounded by all these unfamiliar _people_ , and they were so _tall_! Tall, with strangely made clothes – rough, homespun clothes made to protect against the last chills of Winter. It was cold, too cold for the temperate warmth of February in New Zealand, and there were so many open spaces and bustling streets instead of vast, temperate grasslands surrounding the Lonely Mountain and the dark ruins of Erebor.

A hysterical laugh escaped from in between trembling lips. Where were we? Ha! There was one answer, and only one. We weren't in Erebor. Hell, I had the sinking feeling Eli and I weren't even…

 **No.**

I firmly stopped myself. There was _no way_ that something like…like _that_ could have happened. Stuff like that only happened in movies, in stories, in _fairytales._ Why, then, should I bother to entertain the thought that Eli and I had somehow stumbled fallen from that cliff and back in time?

If that _had_ happened, however – and that would only be hypothetically, mind – it might actually explain the unfamiliarity of these people, and their weird clothes, and the sudden change in location and temperature and –

"Or I'm in Hell," I muttered the other (far more likely) possibility with a sarcastic smile while attempting to rub the warmth back into my arms, "which has apparently frozen over…"

Either way, my questions would not be answered by standing here, doing nothing productive. So I stepped backwards and settled against the brick wall of the unknown building, carefully sliding down the bricks and dropping down to rest beside Eli. One hand to his head, I pushed his curls from his face, checking him for head wounds and, finding none, searching his neck for a pulse. My fingers were still, and nothing shifted beneath the tips, and I began to panic until –

The Elf snorted and snarled cutely in his sleep, his lips pulled into a sneer worthy of the famous King Thranduil. Fingers twitching into two small fists, his delicate brow furrowing, Eli sleepily rambled, "Fat chance! Captain America is _way_ stronger than Iron Man…"

Sighing in exasperation, I leaned down and flicked the pointy tip of his left ear, and none-too-gently, but Eli only continued to mumble to himself about adamantium shields and lasers. Oh, for the love of God, this was not the time to be reminiscing about _Captain America: Civil War_! Unless Captain America and Iron Man could show up and make everything all better _here_ , then what did it matter who was stronger?!

"Wake up!" I demanded, both hands repeatedly shaking his shoulder as my unease returned. We might not have been noticed yet – key word, there – but the sun was rising further into the sky, and the sounds of heavy boots stomping past had increased in frequency. There was no telling who – or what – might stumble upon us.

"ELIJAH MICHAEL SINCLAIR!"

"I'M UP, I'M UP!"

With another snort, Eli bolted upright and furiously rubbed the sleep from his filmy eyes as my own narrowed at him in irritation. "About time!" I fussed at him, admittedly furious with the little boy, but mostly with the situation itself. How were we supposed to get back home?! Where WAS home?!

"Jeez. What's the rush, Sammy? Did Dad eat all of the pancakes again?" Eli voiced his confusion, two lines furrowing his brow and marring his otherwise ageless face. He scratched the back of his head, fingers catching in messy curls, and looked around, finally – _finally_ – taking note of his strange surroundings. Shock colored his brown irises a wary and scared black. "Uh, Sammy, where –?"

"I don't know," I snapped, rudely cutting him off at the knees, and then biting the insides of my cheek in punishment. Eli was _not_ responsible for this nightmare. He might have triggered the events leading to it, but everything had been circumstantial, happenstance…

Bad Luck.

"Sorry, honey," I sighed in regret, hand automatically reaching out to pull him into my side. Elijah, who had been shivering in cold and in fright, hesitantly leaned into me, an arm curling back to hug my waist. My cheek rested against the top of his head while I stared down the alley and into the bustling streets. "To answer your question, I have no clue, and just admitting that is _killing_ me." I grimaced, feeling out of my depth; I liked being in control and having a plan. "I'm just really, really scared right now…"

Oddly enough, Eli was very quiet, his motor mouth temporarily closed for business. I shifted to glance down at the silent Ellon, but Eli had curled into himself like a small hedgehog, burrowing under my arm so as not to be noticed. My heart clenched, becoming heavier, because I could tell what was coming –

A soft sniffle shoved through his clenched teeth and by my sweatshirt, suddenly reaching my ears. Another one, and another, quickly followed the first, until Eli was crying hysterically, his pointy ears cheery red, his hands buried in my sweatshirt, clutching at the blue material with the strength of a particularly stubborn leech. Several attempts later, I coaxed Elijah into releasing it so that I could look him straight in the face. Whereas mine was pale and lined, his was splotchy and scrunched, the normally tan complexion of his skin now a vicious red from the force of his tears. I smiled gently at him, pulling him back into my arms, and eventually, the boy began to settle. Eli hiccupped, and occasionally mumbled to himself; two words began to fall from his lips.

"I'm sorry," Eli whimpered, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

Again, Eli lost himself to the words and thoughts playing in his mind, forgetting to listen for my voice. A soft, rather random tapping of fingers drummed against my arms and legs, alternating to the unheard sounds playing in his head; this had always been one of the signs that the boy needed his next dose of medicine. Without it, Eli struggled to focus on conversation and concentrate on my words, which went unheard.

If my guess was correct, though, Eli would not be taking his medicine for a _really_ long time…

Because Ritalin did not exist in Middle Earth.

"Hey, hey," I hushed him with soft sounds of reassurance, pulling his head to my shoulder and rocking back and forth, back and forth. It had comforted him as a child, and while Eli was now too old for this sort of thing, I found myself attempting to quiet him this way anyway. He would need comfort and help keeping his head in the game until the medicine fully left his system. It would take time, but Eli and I would ride out the aftershocks of quitting his ADHD meds cold turkey. We would get through it together. Maybe all Eli needed to get better was someone who…believed in him.

"Hush. It's okay. _You're_ okay, Eli. I know it sucks, but if you and I could survive falling off that cliff, then you and I can get through this and figure things out." He opened his mouth to continue with his repeated apologies, but I hugged him tighter and sternly said, "You had nothing to do with this situation. This was an _accident._ Bad luck. You hear me?"

"…Yeah, I hear you."

"Good."

We stayed that way, comfortably wrapped around each other and mindlessly listening to the soft sounds of the other breathing – _in, out, in, out, in, out_ – until it seemed like we were one person. All of the sudden, his stomach shattered the silence when it rumbled for food like a young tiger cub. Eli, though embarrassed, peeked at me, eyes pleading for food. I sighed, letting the long exhale flutter the curls atop his head. His hunger was a reminder that Eli and I had not eaten since lunch the previous day. Or had it been longer…? Did it even matter?

We needed food.

There were no ifs, ands, buts about it. We needed food, clean clothes, and somewhere safe to sleep and (at least temporarily) live for a couple of nights. Somewhere to bathe would be nice, and – I stopped myself there. My list seemed to get longer and longer with each passing moment of thought, with the line between _need_ and _want_ smearing and fading like sidewalk chalk beneath the rain. Still, Eli and I _did_ need to find the basic necessities. For those sort of things, I needed to get some money and, yeah, I might be Pessimistic Penny, but somehow, I doubted that the New Zealand dollar would be worth much here…

Pinching my nose in thought, I hummed to myself and mumbled, "Okay, I need to prioritize. I _can_ prioritize! I'm an adult! We have to compromise all the time." With a small _aha,_ I made a small fist and dropped it down into my open palm. "Right! We need food because, without it, Eli and I will bite the dust. Self-explanatory. Clean clothes can wait because Eli and I have another fresh pair in our packs – shit, the packs! Where are –?"

"Right here," Eli piped, his voice still hoarse from crying but decidedly more cheerful with the possibility of food and other necessities right around the corner. He was young and, though neglected by his parents, at least accustomed to getting three square meals each day, having somewhere to rest his curly head at night, and being given the opportunity to wash his dirty clothes and body. Granted, Eli was not always…uh, _inclined_ to take advantage of this opportunity, but boys will be boys, I guess. But I still needed to take care of him.

"Thanks," I replied with a quick smile. Our packs were transferred from his hands to mine, and I began to do an impromptu inventory while continuing with the previous list. "Shelter is really important, but the weather is good – for now – and this alleyway seems good enough if push comes to shove. Not exactly the Ritz, but neither is an archaeological dig site, so…"

My voice trailed off, but Eli caught the gist of it. We had clean clothes, shelter, and each other for safety. He and I could take turns keeping watch at night, and while that might not be ideal, neither of us was willing to take the chance. I nodded at him, listening to him prattle on about camping trips and rattlesnakes, and mentally checked things off the list of important items to have as my companion and I rifled through the packs.

Clean clothes, including underwear, were the easiest item to check off the list. While Eli was not particularly excited about these finds, I was satisfied to know that I had three additional bras and four pairs of panties. I might not have anything around for my period, but I had learned enough herbal remedies and natural solutions from Mrs. Shay that I could probably whip something up.

Soap and shampoo were next, though I was saddened not to find shaving cream or razors. Guess my armpits and legs would become cacti in the next couple of days. On the plus side, I would have extra insulation and protection against the elements from all of the additional hair…

Ignoring my glee at finding the hygiene products, Eli began to dig in both packs and contributed several batteries, two flashlights, and the camera and recorder, but no phones, which irritated Eli. Not that I thought it would be of much importance here. There were no cell phone towers. No 4G. Who would the little Elf call? 911? The Myth Busters?

My switchblade and the Swiss Army Knife that Mr. Bill had given Eli for his eighth birthday dropped into the pile, followed by a number of Ziploc bags, the quick-drying cement kit, and other archaeological must-haves. He and I debated discarding the bags and the kit but soon agreed that the bags might come in handy. We dismantled the mini-kit to make it smaller, chucked some of the cumbersome cement mix to make it lighter, and returned it to my pack.

Lastly, Eli and I opened the front pocket of my pack and (gleefully, happily) discovered the remains of lunch from yesterday. There was an unopened bag of potato chips, two baggies full of squished fruit, a plastic bottle partially filled with water, and the sandwich half that I never got to finish. We immediately dove at the food, and it wasn't until Eli had eaten the sandwich and I had sucked down some water and the first bag of fruit that I realized this was our only food.

"Wait, wait, wait!" I exclaimed, hands already shooting out to rip the bag of potato chips from his grasp. He whined in protest and followed with grabby hands, which I shoved back with an irritated growl, though that might have just been the sound of my stomach protesting the words. "Stop it and _listen_ for a minute! We need to save some of this food for later, even if it's just chips…"

"What do you mean? We can always get something to eat later!" Eli loudly protested, long arms crossed and lips pouting in a show of dissatisfaction. His ADHD meds usually made his appetite disappear, but without the Ritalin, Eli had the tendency to turn into a golden retriever and eat people out of house and home.

After shushing him, I gave him the Look. "Do you see a McDonald's around here?" I asked him in exasperation, spreading both arms wide to gesture to the dark, dank alleyway and the street filled with unhappy people. "No? Because I might have missed it, along with the ATM and Walgreens Pharmacy."

"Okay, okay, I get it! Your panties sure are twisted today," Eli grumbled the words, but I still snorted at hearing his innocent interpretation of _"What's got_ _ **your**_ _panties in a twist?"_ The hyperactive Elf smiled suddenly, his mood swinging along with his arms. "Let's shop for something, then!"

Standing again, I brushed the dirt from my pants and put both hands to my ample hips. "With what money?" I demanded, reminding him that our currency was not taken seriously here. We would be laughed right out of the city – town – if we attempted to give somebody paper money. They were all about the gold here, and judging by the sad state of things, rightfully so.

The Elf was very quiet for another moment and then, seeing the seriousness of my expression, sighed in understanding and regret. "We have to save the rest for tomorrow, don't we?" Eli whined through his nose. He, too, climbed to his feet, and scuffed his sneakers against the disgustingly dirty ground, the toes sending up small clouds of smoke. "I hate this…"

"Me, too," I sighed, relaxing enough to give him a one-armed hug, "but this is the only way that I know how to get through the next day while I figure out how to get back home. We're really going to need food, and I know absolutely _nothing_ about hunting. It might be the twenty-first century, and I kind of hate it, but Daddy always said that it was a 'man's job' to provide his family with food."

"What about…?" Eli hesitantly started to make his suggestion, but something in him told him to stop, and his mouth shut again without finishing the rest of his sentence. I glanced at him, both eyebrows raised in question, and the boy finally – and reluctantly – met my eyes and muttered, "Can we go and…uh, steal something to eat, Sammy?"

"What? No way!" I barked, absolutely horrified at the thought of taking food from somebody else, especially if that person needed it. My stomach rumbled again, clearly annoyed with the morality of the situation. Eli shrugged his shoulders – his _thin_ shoulders – and the little angel riding my shoulder quieted at the reminder that the boy was growing and entering adulthood. Her counterpart, however…

 _Would it really be that bad to steal something to nibble on? Just a small tidbit. A loaf of bread. Cheese!_

 _No. Nope. Not going to happen!_

 _What about Eli? Look at him!_

 _No way!_

 _Yes!_

 _I…_

Blue irises glanced to the right, and then down, staring into the tired, brown gaze of the little boy that I had always thought of as my sibling. He and I might not be related by blood, but Eli and I were raised together, by the small village of archaeologists I called _family_. Hell, _I_ helped raise _him!_

He was _my_ responsibility…

"…Okay."

From his spot in the tattered box behind the old mill, Eli lifted his head and stared dully at me, eyes open and yet unseeing. It had been three days since Eli and I landed here – in the ancient settlement of Laketown – and three days since either of us ate anything substantial. Eli was now a good three pounds lighter, and I had fainted at least twice, but what could I say? I was mulish and prideful. While I had explored the vicinity and removed scraps from the trash bins without much hesitation ( _much_ because it might be morally acceptable, but not entirely hygienic…), I remained adamant about not stealing anything to eat. Daddy had taught me to work hard for what I needed! He had taught me to read and write, to craft jewelry, and how to be an archaeologist. Stealing could not be found anywhere on my resume.

Unfortunately, I was quickly running out of other options. Eli and I had discussed the (rather impossible) possibilities of landing in the past, and after agreeing that Ashton Kutcher was not responsible, I explained to him how I believed this to be Laketown. We were admittedly really confused, for the remains of Smaug had been discovered _inside_ the walls of the Kingdom Under the Mountain, but Eli, in his rambling, made a good point. King Thorin the Triumphant was well remembered for his expansion of the Dwarven Domain. So this place had to be the Laketown of old, the Laketown before King Thorin and the Thirteen had taken back Erebor and expanded it to cover the ruins of Dale and Laketown during the Reconstruction of the Third Age.

In other words, Eli and I were screwed. I was an unmarried Dwarrowdam, and Eli was a pretty little Ellon with little physical training. Neither of us would make it far here without weapons, training, and luck, pure and simple. We only had the first one, so…

"I'm going to get us something to eat," I informed Eli, already tucking him back into the box and covering him and the packs with the discarded cloak I had claimed from three streets over. It was on the ground, and yeah, I had found it beneath the clothesline, which it could've fallen from, but Eli _needed_ it. He was cold. I was cold, too. But I would live.

If I could find food to eat, anyway…

"'kay," Eli mumbled, too tired and hungry and sluggish to really say much else. "Be careful, Sammy."

My heart lurched, pained by the realization that Eli still placed his trust in me, even though I was to blame for his current state. He was starving and going through painful withdrawal symptoms, but I had done next to nothing to help him, with the exception of tucking him into a dirty box. I hadn't been able to get much food from the bins and had been too proud to beg or steal. Now, however, I was more than ready to beg, steal, rob the damn treasury…whatever it took to put food in our mouths. Screw morality! Eli and I wanted to live!

And thus, I opened the first page of my own story and walked right into the words.

 _Once upon a time…_

* * *

***Author's Note***

Okay. First off, **I want to apologize for the long absence.** I have **never** neglected writing before, with the exception of a four month stint of writer's block, which was years ago). I have been working full-time and going to school full-time to get a certificate to add to my teaching license (or else I lose my job). So I have been trying to make myself known as a trustworthy, responsible, hard-working adult. Writing has taken a backseat, but NO LONGER! Even though school starts again this week, I promised myself I would start writing again. With a year under my belt, I hope to keep my promise...

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the (hopefully, realistic) **entry of Sammy and Eli into the world of Middle Earth.** Instead of the world being different from Earth, like I made it for Sammy and Seth in _Sacrifice,_ for LOTR, I have made it where Middle Earth is the "original" Earth - about10,000 years in the past. It gives me more time and leeway to play with the plot and make it original! :)

I'm also referencing **fairy tales** (and Disney/Pixar) movies in the titles. If you can guess where this title originated, kudos! If you also want to suggest something, then please feel free to drop it off in a review! ;)

 **PLEASE READ AND REVIEW!**

 _Update = ~60 Reviews_

:)


	6. Chapter 5: The Prince of Thieves

~Chapter Five~

The Prince of Thieves

 _All I Know:  
Time Is A Valuable Thing.  
Watch It Fly By As the Pendulum Swings.  
Watch It Count Down to the End of the Day.  
The Clock Ticks Life Away._

 _I Tried So Hard,  
And Got So Far,  
But In the End,  
It Doesn't Even Matter.  
I Had to Fall  
To Lose It All._

 _I've Put My Trust In You,  
Pushed As Far As I Can Go… _

_~In the End,_ by Linkin Park

Disclaimer: Me No Own; You No Sue.

* * *

 **"Be careful, Sammy."**

 **My heart lurched, pained by the realization that Eli still placed his trust in me, even though I was to blame for his current state. He was starving and going through painful withdrawal symptoms, but I had done next to nothing to help him, with the exception of tucking him into a dirty box. I hadn't been able to get much food from the bins and had been too proud to beg or steal. Now, however, I was more than ready to beg, steal, rob the damn treasury…whatever it took to put food in our mouths. Screw morality! Eli and I wanted to live!**

 **And thus, I opened the first page of my own story and walked right into the words.**

 ** _Once upon a time…_**

* * *

Shadows clung to my skin and trickled down it like water. They washed the bravery from my eyes and left only fear in its place, which glittered like diamonds in their midst. Still, I crept, slowly and uncertainly, through the eerily empty streets of Laketown. I paused occasionally, listening for the sounds of footsteps and, eventually, honed in on a particular set. They were admittedly heavier than the first few sets I listened to, meaning that they likely belonged to a stockier individual, but the sounds were isolated, and not in a group. A plus, in my opinion!

 _Can I do it? Can I really steal from someone else? We really, really need the cash, but…_

 _ **Should**_ _I do it? It's amoral, unethical, against every one of the morals that Daddy taught, and –_

A wispy image of Eli, so much quieter and thinner than I could remember him being, whispered like stars before my eyes. _"I'm hungry, Sammy. Is there anything to eat today? Do I need to wait until tomorrow? 'Cuz I can. I can wait…!"_

"Dammit, I've _been_ waiting. I've waited and waited, but nothing is changing! No one is coming to save us. _Nobody_ is going to fix this situation for us," I mumbled, slamming trembling hands over my eyes. A bright kaleidoscope of colorful lights appeared, and I fought to stay conscious while simultaneously painting atop the hungry, accusatory face of the little Ellon.

 _I can wait. I can wait. I can wait._

A nervous swallow later, and I steeled myself, biting my cheek and burrowing into the wrinkled, stained cloak that I had nicked from an unoccupied boat that somebody had left tied to the docks. It was old and smelled like fish; however, the wool kept the chilly temperatures at bay and kept others from looking at me twice. While I was shorter than the others here, I blended in nicely.

For those that _did_ happen to give me a second glance, I glared at them from beneath the shadow cast by the big hood, daring them to come closer. I must've packed enough menace – and fierce desperation – into that look to keep the saneones away. Because I only encountered two…little _problems_ as my shoes sloshed through the muddy puddles of lake water clinging to the creaking, rotten planks of the dock. Long story short – Idiot Number One I lost in the crowd three hours earlier; Idiot Number Two, as an, um, more _persistent_ fellow, was shoved into the icy lake. Everybody else could probably tell that my small fingers, hidden beneath the edges of the traveling cloak, and just out of sight, were palming the handle of a weapon.

My aura was threatening – and also complete, total bullshit. Fake. Pretentious. Acting badass was a necessary precaution, though, because I was a) young, and b) female, and c) untrained. A Dwarrowdam was thought to have fetched hefty sums of gold back in the early years of the Third Age. Evidence had been recorded in the books in the libraries of Gondor. Only the Men of this Age had retained records of calculations and – I shuddered– _transactions_ for the selling of Dwarrowdams.

I refused to be another statistic.

I would **not** be another gold coin in the bag of some _worthless trafficker_!

As such, I could not afford to let anybody see me or, more importantly, my curves. My face, while youthful and feminine in the right light, bore no makeup and had been successfully hidden beneath layers of dirt, hunger, and fatigue. And I did not have the mile-long eyelashes that Eli boasted. So I could show it, and its glare, without worrying too much about somebody seeing through my ruse. Granted, I still worried about being called out, and captured, and sold, and –

Yeah. But I had also checked, double-checked, and _triple_ -checked that my (much too big) chest and (obnoxiously bright blonde) hair had been covered to ward off negative attention from the Men and, possibly, the Women. A quarter of the blood in my veins might claim kinship with these taller folk, but the majority thrummed with the strength of the, admittedly, vertically challenged Dwarrows. My heart didn't take too kindly to the idea of being harassed by somebody twice my size…

I shuffled out from behind the large tower of moldy crates, hand hidden beneath the cloak and clamped to the handle of the blade in its grasp. My other hand twitched with each rumble of hunger echoing in my stomach, and I became quieter, faster, in following my intended target. While following him – his gait was sure and characterized by a confident swagger, so most assuredly male – I put on my archeologist shoes and took the time to observe him.

Quiet, but with certain footsteps. Too loud to be Elven; too confident to be my age or younger.

Bold. Clothes consisted of dark leather, furs, and the clanking of silver fastenings and trinkets, some of which adorned his hair – hair that was molded oddly. Because of the darkness, however, I could not discern the shape in the dark. _Damn human eyes…_

Again, I doubted this male to be Elven. I also strongly doubted him to be of the Race of Man because of his height – or rather, the lack thereof. He was more my size of five feet than their height of six feet and six inches. That, coupled with his stocky build and the trademark adornments to his hair and clothes, made me think Dwarrow.

My only hang-up was the absurdly quiet nature of his footsteps. I was abnormally clumsy but, like most of my race, quite firm footed. There was no uncertainly, hesitation, in the steps of the average male Dwarrow. I scowled at the paradox. _What self-respecting Dwarrow of the Third Age walks with the grace of an Elf…?_

"Hey. You. C'm 'ere."

Nonplussed, I stopped to stare blindly into the dark, wishing for the umpteenth time that I had the night vision gifted to the rest of the Dwarven Race.

"You look hungry, boy. You want somethin' to eat? I got somethin' for ya. Tastes real good, too…"

Hunching my shoulders, I scowled darkly at the innuendo and glared daggers at the Man, hissing angrily at his attempts to lure me in – and to keep him from thinking me easy prey as well. The Man averted his hopeful black gaze and staggered through the darkness, hastily stepping through the door of a small, crowded bar. ( _…tavern?_ ) A bell clanged overhead, alerting the owner to the possibility of another customer, and signaling the departure of the pervert from the streets of Laketown.

Dammit to Hell. Unfortunately, I _still_ attracted unwanted attention by being short.

On the plus side, however, I was thought to be male.

A boy…

 _Better to be underestimated,_ I firmly thought to myself while hurriedly searching for the trail of the short, oddly dressed stranger. I had lost him in the short span of time it had taken to frighten the perverted Man into keeping his hands – and his penis – to himself. My eyes, already tired, struggled to discern the larger, booted footprints from those around them. _Those? Nope._ I continued glancing down, tracking possible suspects as my own shoes made fresh prints.

A Dwarven curse escaped without warning, brought about by fatigue, and I cursed yet again, this time for letting it slip in the first place. I was attempting to blend in with the rest of these people! Not bring attention to myself! Before I could release another one, my arm was yanked viciously to the side by someone unseen. I bit back a girly yelp of pain, fighting the urge to yell, "Rape!" Screaming "fire" would get more attention in most situations. Here, in Laketown, however, it might not do me much good, being surrounded by water and all…

Rape?

…Fire?

 _Choices, choices!_

A hand clamped strongly over my mouth, making the silent debate a moot – and mute – point. I gagged at the taste of leather and sweat clogging my nose and mouth and making my eyes water. Another hand snaked out to shake my wrist, forcing the fingers apart, and the Swiss Army Knife clattered to the ground, useless. My lips trembled, but I stayed silent, biting them hard enough to draw blood. If I gave in, if I spoke…

He would know.

"Why are you skulkin' about, darin 'to follow me?" A voice rasped in my ear as short, stubby fingers slipped forward to shove the point of his dagger into my stomach. I inhaled sharply but said nothing in reply. The Dwarrow – definitely Dwarrow, for the darkly uttered Khuzdul could only be spoken by Dwarves during the Third Age, by law and command of the King – growled at me and threatened, "Start speaking, boy, _'fore I cut yer tongue out and take the chance from ya!_ "

Halfway through his threat, the Dwarrow had switched from the Common Tongue to Khuzdul, thusly giving me another warning: _You are of me and mine. Between Dwarrow, settled by Dwarrow. I am justified in taking action how I deem fit._

My mouth remained shut, but I cautiously lifted both hands to show him I would not harm him. He laughed sardonically at the gesture and permitted it, if only to show just how nonthreatening he thought me. A Dwarrow. A boy…

 _Better to be underestimated._

Quick as a snake, I lurched forward, and I struck him in the chest with both palms, slipping them down his armor and into his pockets to snatch his coin purse. I whirled around and stumbled into the dirt face-first, spitting out mud and snarling in self-disgust. I was embarrassed, and scared to death, completely numb to all but the pounding of my racing heartbeat, which slammed into my ears and throat like a rampaging bison. My fear, however, was not crippling; it fueled the fast feet with which I bolted from the dark alley and into the night.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit," I mumbled, huffing and puffing with each footfall. I raced through the big maze of rundown hovels, stalls, and boardwalks, leaping over a cat and accidentally kicking an abandoned bucket of water; the former yowled in protest, especially as the latter covered it. "Sorry, kitty," I called, wincing in sympathy, and continued onward, "but I prefer dogs, anyway!"

" _Good thing yer in the doghouse, then, eh?_ " The Dwarrow was darkly amused with the turning of the tables, it seemed, and emerged from the shadows of the storefront that I had crawled into, hoping to have shaken him from my tail.

I jumped, horrified to find that the Dwarrow had not only managed to match me step for step, but to _pass_ me as well! How the fuck had he managed to get ahead of me? Was he familiar with this place? Laketown was a place for Men!

" _No need ta look so scared,_ " The Dwarrow chuckled, leaning forward to cage me against the brick wall, pressing his thick, barrel-like chest into my shoulders. " _Only came ta congratulate ya. Maybe propose a trade. Ya forgot something, boy. See?_ " He lifted the Swiss Army Knife that Elijah cherished with all of his heart; it had been the only gift his father really put thought in before giving to his son. My own clenched, torn between keeping the gold – _and getting food_ – and swapping it for the beloved knife.

Gold.

Knife.

Choices, choices.

… _I'm really starting to_ _ **hate**_ _having to make choices…_

Warily, I handed him the coin purse, praying that the Dwarrow would not notice that five coins had vanished from within the belly of the sheepskin purse. I turned the same palm upside down, holding it out in silent demand of the knife. A glint of success – _of gotcha_ – flashed in his metal blue eyes. Before I could properly process the change, I found myself short the coin purse, the knife, and the anonymity that Eli and I had desperately clung to these past three days.

One massive hand ripped the hood from over my eyes and, at the exact same moment, another slipped upwards, to circle the base of my neck. My golden hair tumbled down to my shoulders, and the slender column of my neck pulsed beneath his hand. What clued him in, though, was the roundness of the chest beneath his wrist. His left hand hadn't even made it by the collar of the dirty shirt I wore. All five fingers hovered above my right breast, completely still.

The Dwarrow stared at me.

And I trembled.

" _A girl. Yer a soddin', bleedin'…_ " The Dwarrow paused, swallowed the rest of his words, and withdrew, giving me a much-needed two feet between us. It might not be much, and it wouldn't be enough to give me an advantage if I tried to bolt again, but the space gave me room to breathe and calm down, to assess.

" _What gave you the first clue?_ " I asked, both sarcastically and curiously. If I managed to get away and lived to tell the tale, I would probably have to resort to stealing again, which meant needing to blend in. A female thief would be –

A narrowing of the eyes, and the Dwarrow replied, " _Prob'ly yer gait, if I had stopped to think about it. Yer taller than most Dwarrowdams, but ya still walk like one._ " He frowned, quite obviously annoyed with himself. " _Just thought ya were young. Shoulda known better…_ "

" _I am young_ ," I grunted, annoyed with myself as well, and then flushed in embarrassment. My red cheeks quickly lost their color as my words replayed themselves. " _Not too young! I'm old enough to make my own decisions!_ "

" _Stupid decisions,_ " The Dwarrow rebuked, his instinctive protectiveness overshadowing his irritation at being robbed, " _but yeah, I s'pose so._ " Steely eyes glinted again, this time in consideration. " _…how many years have ya seen?_ "

Warning bells began to chime in my ears. He couldn't possibly be thinking about how much I would fetch, could he? I was young, true, but back home, I would be considered legal, of age. Here – I was a child. He wouldn't hurt a child, would he…?

Not willing to take the chance, I shoved at his chest, willing him to stumble again. No such luck, however, as my arms and hands pressed against him with all the force of a leaf in a storm. His hands curled around both my wrists, tight enough to keep them restrained but light enough to prevent bruises from marring my skin. As if…it _mattered_ to him how I might look. How I might look…to a potential _buyer!_ A wave of bile rushed forward at that train of thought.

" _I think I'm going to be sick,_ " I mumbled, attempting to keep my eyes clear and free of the tears that threatened to break rank and fall. The Dwarrow paid these words little mind and instead gazed down at me in speculation, possibly counting his chickens before they hatched. Why? Because I was going to kick him in the nuts!

 _Thwack!_ My sneaker came in contact with his unprotected groin, which the Dwarrow bent down to clutch between two gloved hands, and I stumbled back, into the main street, to fly down the boardwalk. I didn't waste time being quiet this time, too concerned with getting back to Eli. Still, I made certain to zigzag through the backstreets to shake possible followers, so as to prevent them from finding our makeshift house. Our Home Away From Home. Ha!

"Eli," I hissed, "Elijah! We need to leave." Frantically, I searched through the discarded heaps of trash and recovered the packs, while also digging around for the fluff of black hair that adorned the head of one sleeping Elf. "C'mon! We gotta go, go, _go!_ "

" _Not hardly._ "

"Dammit to Hell!" I snapped in Common. Whipping around to keep him in my sights, I glared and stealthily angled the rest of myself to the boxes that surrounded Eli like a cocoon of wood. "What part of that little kick to the dick failed to penetrate that thick skull of yours? _No_ means _no_!"

" _You call that kick little, huh? Havin' an off day? Would hate to see ya on a good 'un, then, lass,_ " The Dwarrow snorted, though the words lacked malice, and his eyes were clear and unburdened by the hatred I honestly expected. Instead, I found empathy. _Empathy!_ Fear, disgust, I could understand. Hate? Sure! Empathy, though…?

The Dwarrow stepped closer, and I countered by stepping back and to the left, keeping him from getting closer to the sleeping Eli. His fingers were empty, and the Dwarrow mimicked the earlier motion of lifting his hands in a show of good faith. My own searched the pockets of my pants in the hopes of finding something – anything – to use against him. A cold sting of metal bit at their skin, and I dimly recognized the shape of that blasted key, but I ignored the epiphany in favor of curling around the oddly shaped object. Who cared how the key had gotten there so long as it could be used to stab him in the eye?

 _Priorities, am I right?_

" _No need for anythin' like that._ _Promise I'm not goin' to hurt ya._ " A soothing, almost protective quality slipped into his voice; the balm soothed the fear brimming in my soul. As much as I disliked it, I responded to it by relaxing faintly and lowering the hand I raised against him. My inner Dwarrowdam could hear the truth in his words.

Unfortunately, Eli was not gifted with that talent, and his inner Ellon demanded to be let loose at that inconvenient moment. He lurched forward from his crate like Dracula rising from the grave, and launched himself at the unfamiliar Dwarrow. A snarl, cute but loud, echoed in the alley as my young companion made contact with the unsuspecting stranger. They both released small yells as one thing led to another. Funnily enough, like Newton claimed, the object at rest remained at rest until another, external force slammed into it. Physics at work!

" _Durin's Beard!_ " The Dwarrow barked while falling backwards and slamming into a wall. My face cracked beneath the weight of a smile, finding it poetic justice – and karma – that the damn bully had been forced into a wall, too. " _Get offa me, ya pointy-eared bastard!_ "

Hearing those words, I blanched, knowing the Dwarven dislike for Elves to be fresh in the Third Age. Eli was the salt to the wound; _I better step forward and separate the two if I want Eli to remain in the world of the living and not the Halls of Mandos._ "Okay! _Okay, okay! He's off,_ " Hurriedly, I exclaimed, hands prying the rabid Elf from his shoulders. " _No harm. No foul. Right?_ "

" _Yer speaking our tongue, yet I can't understand half o' wut yer sayin'!_ "

" _Hey!_ " I yelled, taking offense, at the same moment Eli beat his hands against my clavicle (ouch, ouch, _ouch_ ) and cried, " _Quit being mean to her!_ _ **Your**_ _Khuzdul is bad! Not hers! Dumbass!_ "

"Language!" I barked at Eli, clamping both hands atop his mouth to keep him from spouting any more nonsense and, belatedly, to keep the stranger from hearing the Ellon speaking in Khuzdul. Dammit. I had _told_ him to speak in Common. Did Eli listen, though? Nope! Typical MO for Eli…

A wet tongue slurped at my palm, but I refused to let him go. I made a nasty face at him, which caused the boy to settle and stop thrashing in my arms. The Dwarrow, his face stony and blank, observed the interaction with the same morbid fascination that Daddy did when poking at the skeletal remains at various archaeological dig sites. He might not have understood the recent, modern colloquialisms, but the Dwarrow _could_ apparently put two and two together to get four…

" _Yer half-breeds,_ " The Dwarrow breathed, and while technically correct, I figured his words to translate into: _You're half-Dwarrow and half-Elf_ , which would therefore be _incorrect._ Yes, I was of Mixed Blood, like most people nowadays – well, from _my_ time. I was predominately Dwarrow, with a smattering of human blood, and Eli was a mix of Elven heritage and…

Hastily, I swallowed the thought and shoved it back into the darkest corners of my mind. We weren't supposed to think of it. To do so would be to…jinx it. If I _thought_ it, I would _speak_ it, and then Eli would know the other reason so many people shot him sidelong glances back home. Having ADHD was one thing, but being _his_ heir was quite another…

" _What of it?_ " I demanded, and the defensive tone of voice reached out to him, even more so than the soft tremble of fear that caused the words to shake. Shoving Eli behind, and closer to the entrance of the alley, I eyed him and snapped, " _There's nothing wrong with being different!_ "

" _No. No, I s'pose not,_ " The Dwarrow murmured in thought, seemingly staring at something far away as grayish blue irises clouded with memories. He made a soft, humming noise in the back of his throat, yet another instinctive action that made me scowl because it made it harder to keep thinking of him as an enemy. My indecision must've shown because a small smirk twitched to life beneath his intricately braided mustache. " _Though there's something wrong with stealin'_."

" _You're one to talk, Hotshot,_ " I retorted, having seen the Dwarrow sporadically add to the value of coins in his purse as the dusk reached out to the embrace the people and lands of Laketown; that had been another reason why I picked him to stalk. " _You're hands are much stickier than mine!_ " I squinted at him through narrowed blue eyes. " _Hypocrite!_ "

Amusement colored his words yet again. " _Well, well, well. It's been a real long while since I've met another thief, let alone two, and with morals!_ " I could practically hear the sarcasm melting his words into butter.

Feeling offended _for_ Eli, who merely blinked at him in confusion, I shuffled like a crab towards the main street and attempted to distract him with my own silver tongue. I gestured to myself and rambled, " _ **I'm**_ _the thief! Eli has nothing to do with that little side business of mine._ "

" _Side business, huh? Ya have to have a main business 'fore ya can get into the side business,_ " The Dwarrow pointed out and, seeing the stiffening of my shoulders, took a playful stab in the dark. " _Lemme guess. Yer a…whore?_ "

The Elf in my arms stared sourly at him, the confusion turning to frustration at this turn in the conversation. He hadn't understood the word _fuck_ back home _._ So, honestly, I wasn't too surprised to hear him chirp – "What's a whore?"

I bit back an aggrieved sigh and, in quick Elvish, muttered, "You can ask Ms. Hannah when we get back home."

"Yeah. Right! You mean _if_ we get back home," Eli bitterly mumbled in response. It had been the first time that I had heard him express any sense of doubt but, hearing it, I could understand it. I might not like it. And I might hate that I couldn't wave a wand and magically fix it. But I couldn't do anything to change the situation right now.

Still, I flinched, but refrained from disagreeing with the boy – the preteen, really. He would be fully grown in approximately eight years. At twenty, Eli would have reached his full height, with wider shoulders and hips, and the strength and speed associated with the Elves. He wouldn't need help then. Now, however…

We _both_ needed help.

" _Look,_ " I sighed again, this time in defeat, and deceptively lowered both eyes to stare at the wet ground. My blue irises searched for his, but the Dwarrow was unaware of that fact, thinking the action submissive in nature; I used this to my advantage and kept him in my sights.

" _My…little brother and I don't have anywhere to live, or anyone to look out for us_ ," I explained. The Dwarrow seemed oblivious to the hesitation in my voice when deciding how to address Eli and his relationship to me. " _Nobody will hire Dwarrows here, let alone Dwarrowdams! That's two strikes against me. So instead of wasting time and getting another strike out, I just skipped the asking-for-a-job part and went straight for the hey-finders-keepers part. You can relate to that bit of common sense, can't you?_ "

" _Aye, lass, I can at that,_ " The Dwarrow admitted, cleverly leaning to the side to block our exit ( _damn him_ ) while appearing completely at home against the corner of the wall. He also apparently did not find anything out of the norm with that level of bluntness.

Then again, Dwarrows _were_ renowned for their loyalty, their honesty, and, well, their candidness. As such, I had made certain to tune into that part of my personality, hiding the deceptiveness that Daddy claimed originated in the… _human_ part of me. My nose wrinkled in distaste. I only used that little skill to keep those close to me safe, but Daddy still insisted that it was a nasty habit that would get me into trouble someday. So far, though, I had been fine. A little half-truth or white lie here and there wouldn't really hurt anybody, right…?

After another minute, the Dwarrow eyed the two of us and quietly checked, " _Yer all alone? Ya have no one else?_ "

It didn't take much effort to bring forth a couple of tears. Again, I wasn't quite telling the truth, but Eli and I really didn't have anybody else here, in this time, to help us out. My little half-lie wouldn't hurt anybody in the long run. In _fact,_ Eli and I would be safer if I could convince the Dwarrow to give us the time of day and perhaps teach us a thing or two about pickpocketing people. Because I obviously couldn't steal to save my miserable life. Or his…

A fierce sigh of exasperation escaped from between his partially hidden lips, which made the reddish brown strands of his thick mustache flutter. Grayish blue eyes gazed at the sky, silently asking, " _Why me?_ " While Eli and I didn't hear a response, something must've suddenly clicked upstairs because the Dwarrow turned around, smiled self-depreciatively, stuck his big hands in his pockets, and cocked his head to the side at us.

" _C'mon, then,_ " The Dwarrow huffed with good humor, finding the shocked expressions on our pale faces to be funny. " _If I have to teach a couple of baby ducklin's how to survive, I might as well be teachin' somethin' that I'm good at. Stealin', as it turns out, is somethin' 'm very,_ _ **very**_ _good at, lass –_ " Here, his hand snaked out to ruffle the head of dark hair at his side, to which Elijah squawked in protest. "– _and lad._ "

A small smile pulled at my mouth because, while I wouldn't admit it aloud, I found the protective, brotherly teasing in his words to be endearing, and completely at odds with the intimidating personality the thief had shown for the first half of the night. I might not fully trust him yet, but there was a strange pulling in the pit of my gut that insisted this Dwarrow might be one of the "Good Guys."

" _Hey! You've left out a couple of things,_ " I suddenly recalled, hands in my own pockets, and the rest of my small form hidden beneath the cloak once more as we stalked through the night like ghosts, " _like…who are you, and where are you going?_ "

Teeth glinted in the faint light of the moon, and the Dwarrow smiled handsomely down at me. I stared at him in surprise, honestly charmed by his rugged attractiveness. He _was_ attractive, too, if I compared him to the qualities most Dwarrowdams wanted in their Dwarrows – strong facial features, with big nose, chin, and eyebrows, thick shoulders and hips, stocky build, and the stubbornness of a mule. All packed into one nice package. Hello, Mr. Handsome!

" _You first, lass,_ " The Dwarrow – the _attractive_ Dwarrow, my mind piped in, to my annoyance – grunted the command down at me. He, like most thieves, was not overly trusting of others, not that I could really blame him for that trait.

My gut hummed pleasantly, along with something else _significantly_ lower, and I decided to just bite the bullet. Still, I swallowed nervously. Because I normally wouldn't have been so accepting of strangers, so trusting, but desperate times called for desperate measures!

"My name is Samantha, but I prefer Sammy," I finally introduced myself, albeit hesitantly, and then pointed to the gangly Ellon trotting along beside the two of us. "That's Elijah, and Eli for short. We're _siblings._ "

My friend, Elijah, silently squinted – first, at my obvious hint to keep up the charades, and then, at the Dwarrow, using his index and middle fingers to make the universal sign for " _Hey, I'm watching you!_ "

A surprised laugh whispered into the darkness, chasing the shadows away. Warmth surrounded the three of us, and the night didn't feel quite so cold and threatening. Elijah and I blinked, eagerly awaiting the name of the enigmatic stranger.

The Dwarrow smirked mischievously at us.

" _Nori, at your service!_ "

* * *

***Author's Note***

Greetings! I hope you are all **safe and sound** , particularly to those along the East Coast of the U.S.! Hurricane Matthew has been relentless these past few days! So stay safe, stay dry, and all that important stuff!

As for this story, I hope you all enjoy the addition of the first of Thorin's Company - **Nori!** I love him to death and, like many people here, think that there aren't enough stories that bring him to light. Sammy is, admittedly, going to have a small crush on him. But do not fear! Thorin will be here! He'll also be a bit of an ass at first, but, hey - it's Thorin. What can you do? ;)

Anyway...!

 **PLEASE READ AND REVIEW!**

 _Update = ~73 Reviews_

:)


	7. Chapter 6: The Prince and the Paupers

~Chapter Six~

The Prince and the Paupers

 _I Don't Need A Husband; Don't Need No Wife  
And I Don't Need the Day; I Don't Need the Night._

 _I Don't Want Your Future;  
I Don't Need Your Past.  
One Bright Moment  
Is All I Ask._

 _I'm Gonna Leave My Body  
I'm Gonna Lose My Mind… _

_History Keeps Pulling Me, Pulling Me Down._

 _~Leave My Body,_ by Florence and the Machine

Disclaimer: Me No Own; You No Sue.

* * *

 **Teeth glinted in the faint light of the moon, and the Dwarrow smiled handsomely down at me. I stared at him in surprise, honestly charmed by his rugged attractiveness. He _was_ attractive, too, if I compared him to the qualities most Dwarrowdams wanted in their Dwarrows – strong facial features, with big nose, chin, and eyebrows, thick shoulders and hips, stocky build, and the stubbornness of a mule. All packed into one nice package. Hello, Mr. Handsome!**

 **" _You first, lass,_ " The Dwarrow – the _attractive_ Dwarrow, my mind piped in, to my annoyance – grunted the command down at me. He, like most thieves, was not overly trusting of others, not that I could really blame him for that trait.**

 **"My name is Samantha, but I prefer Sammy," I finally introduced myself, albeit hesitantly, and then pointed to the gangly Ellon trotting along beside the two of us. "That's Elijah, and Eli for short. We're _siblings._ "**

 **My friend, Elijah, silently squinted – first, at my obvious hint to keep up the charades, and then, at the Dwarrow, using his index and middle fingers to make the universal sign for " _Hey, I'm watching you!_ "**

 **A surprised laugh whispered into the darkness, chasing the shadows away. Warmth surrounded the three of us, and the night didn't feel quite so cold and threatening. Elijah and I blinked, eagerly awaiting the name of the enigmatic stranger.**

 **The Dwarrow smirked mischievously at us.**

 **" _Nori, at your service!_ "**

* * *

From atop the building, and close to the ledge, I leaned back on nimble heels and observed the happenings of Laketown. Men and Women milled about in the town square as another morning began. Heads hidden beneath deep hoods, hands in the folds of cloaks, both to stave off the crisp chill and to keep hold of money or valuables. Many of them had just left their rickety, wooden houses, surreptitiously glancing about while securing the old buildings with various keys and locks.

 _Locks,_ Nori explained in his sly but informative way, _came in different shapes and sizes._ Apple locks, pull locks, chamber locks, bar beams, and everything in between. Some, like apple and pull locks, were more common and could be bypassed simply by inserting the point of a very sharp dagger, which moved aside the tumbler mechanisms coiled within the brass, "slipping" them from _locked_ to _open_. There were others, however, such as a chamber lock, involved springs and bolts and therefore increased the difficulty of them being opened by other, uh, _means._

Eli, being Eli, had cheerfully suggested dynamite as a means to get in. I had spent years with the boy and had become accustomed to his line of thinking, so my mouth twitched because I found his suggestion funny. And Nori? Well, Nori appeared to fight the desire to strangle the two of us…

After explaining better methods of getting in, Nori assigned the two of us our daily "chores," so to speak. Positions, _I_ called them. Elijah and I were surprised by the knowledge required to be a pickpocket, thief, and all-around scoundrel. Thieving _alone_ was a very difficult, time-consuming pursuit. It required patience, diligence, and keen eyes. Maybe insomnia, too. Because it was only five o' clock in the morning, and yet here I was, on watch. Yay…

Really, I shouldn't complain.

I should be pleased, _ecstatic_ even!

An experienced thief thought _me,_ a _novice,_ capable of observing the Men and Women ( _the beardless,_ Nori spitefully called them in Khuzdul, though frequently with a wry glance at my own naked chin and cheeks) to determine our newest mark. Eli had offered to do it first – by excitedly shouting " _shotgun_ ," to the mild confusion of the Dwarrow – but _I_ had been the one entrusted with this great responsibility. It could be because I was the older of his two, newly apprenticed thieves. Or because Eli had nearly tumbled off the ledge of the building I now staked out like a pigeon in NYC.

With this birds-eye view, I made the best of my situation and zeroed in on a tired and harried looking Woman that had chased two boys out of her house and into the streets. She dropped her keys and hissed out a curse as one of the boys bolted off without first telling her. Snapping at him, the Woman retrieved her keys from the ground, grabbed her youngest by the hand, and hurried after her wayward son. (…And. Forgot. To. Lock. The. Door…) Stared ahead with wary eyes –

 _Suspicious folk,_ I thought with some amusement, though I could understand first-hand why this might be the case. After all, Eli and I had been nicking the essentials, such as clothes and fresh loaves of bread, from their clotheslines and stalls for about two weeks. The Dwarrow was now instructing Eli in working crowds and helping others (namely, Nori and myself) steal multiple items while serving as a distraction, whereas I had recently graduated from Petty Thief to Cutpurse.

Eli, I remembered, had _not_ been pleased.

" _How come_ _ **Sammy**_ _gets to do all the fun stuff?_ "

" _There's nothin' fun 'bout learnin' to pick pockets, Half Pint,_ " Nori said, the exasperation in his voice clear. The Dwarrow had been remarkably patient thus far, but with the fifth complaint from the hyperactive boy, Nori had resorted to derogatory nicknames and rude grunts.

" _He has a point, Eli,_ " I muttered in reply to the hopeful look sent my way. Eli scowled, the wind taken out of his sails, and huffed, the sound whistling through his braces. " _It might be fun at the moment, but two weeks ago, we were starving – nearly half-dead! Not only that, but what happens if we get, ya know,_ _ **caught**_ _?_ "

This last question easily wiped the scowl from his face and replaced it with a pinched look that I had learned to recognize as a sign of his fears. He said nothing else, but the question had been directed at Nori as well. The Dwarrow in question shifted his gaze, where it had followed the path of the shadows dancing by the alley entrance, and looked straight into mine.

" _Depends…_ " Nori replied vaguely. He idly stroked at the bit of burnt orange-and-brown fuzz that covered the front of his neck, beneath the lower portion of his beard.

" _On…?"_ I insistently prodded. Nori wouldn't _always_ be around to answer our questions. Might as well ask them while the Dwarrow was still around, I figured. Unlike Eli, who adored Nori and would follow him to the ends of Earth (…Middle Earth?), I wasn't under the illusion that Nori would stick around forever. Didn't much seem the type.

" _On how much the loot is worth,_ " Nori deadpanned. He pulled out several coins from the purse at his belt and palmed them, then flipped the smallest between his fingers and thumb, sliding the coin in and out of the spaces in between them. " _Anythin' worth less than_ _ **this**_ _gets ya a small fine and a night in jail. This –_ " Another coin, though wider and with more markings, appeared. "– _is worth much,_ _ **much**_ _more and gets ya a good floggin', maybe the loss o' an ear._ "

" _What about the biggest coin?_ " Eli piped and pointed to the coin in question, having noticed that the largest and shiniest of the lot still rested in the basin of his huge palm. The Ellon curiously tilted his head to the side, admiring its golden sheen.

Nori smiled at us. " _Death._ "

Eli and I exchanged glances. "… _Death?_ "

" _Death. Execution. By hanging…!_ " Nori cheerfully clarified with a small nod of his huge head.

My best friend appeared doubtful, but I swallowed nervously upon processing the cold truth in his words. Nori stared deeper into my eyes. Grey clouds and blue skies. Subconsciously, I reached higher to brush trembling fingers over my neck where, I knew, the noose would be placed, tightened, and drawn until I was gone.

Dead.

Game Over.

Do Not Pass Go. Do Not Collect $200.

 _What kind of sick version of Monopoly is this world operating on?!_

"Find anythin' worthwhile, _Kidhuzurâl_?" Nori interrupted these memories from his place topside of a wooden ladder; the Ellon at his side lost his grip and pinwheeled his arms in the attempt to regain his balance. He casually reached out, grasped the boy by his upper arm, and hauled him up. Eli pitched forward onto the rooftop and made a dramatic show of being alive by gasping loudly and clutching at his heart – _"I'm alive!_ "

"…Um," I started, surprised by their early return but not as startled by his quiet footsteps as two weeks prior – Nori had taken _great_ pleasure in teaching and had scared the wits out of Eli and I _multiple_ times since then. "I think I see a couple of Men that might be good to pickpocket, and that house there is probably unlocked…"

"Ya _think_ or ya actually _know,_ Lass? 's important to know the difference," The Master Thief scolded, his thick brow quirked in speculation.

"Know," I confirmed and pointed to the Men that I had chosen as our next Mark. "See that Man right there, with the brown hair and the black coat? He's plain enough not to draw attention, with a common hair color, unlike mine. Couple of his colleagues –"

"– _Shirimund_ –"

Blue eyes rolled in irritation. "– right, _beardless_ colleagues –"

"Nay, Lass, you're a Dwarrowdam. 's not _beardless._ 's _shirimund._ " He gently gripped the tip of my chin in his hand and lifted it to stare into my eyes, which I had lowered after rolling them at his interjection, wary of another rebuke. I flushed under his attention. And Nori sternly said, "Ya should be proud o' yer heritage."

Pulling out of his hold, I cleared the words from my throat and continued like I hadn't heard him, "House is unlocked. I noticed the lady down there dropped her keys and forgot to lock the door after picking them up." Eli followed light of sight and pointed to the middle-aged Woman I followed with my eyes. I absentmindedly pushed his hand down. "Pointing is rude, Elijah."

" _Women,_ " Nori derisively snorted beneath his breath, but I heard it all the same and I huffed at him, my smaller shoulder bumping against his in comradery. Whether the Dwarrow meant the absentminded human or myself, I still thought it an unnecessary comment. A handsome smirk curled his mouth up. "Good work, _Kidhuzurâl._ "

While I positively glowed under his gruff but sincere praise, Eli pouted at him, tugged at the gray sleeve of his tunic, and pitifully whined, "What about _me,_ Nori? I did good, too!" His button nose curled, and the Ellon muttered, "Well, I did bad, actually, but I was good at doing bad!"

Some distant part of me wilted at that declaration. However, I found that with each passing day that part – the righteous part of me screaming for manners and morals and _let's all follow the law like good little boys and girls_ – grew smaller and smaller, until I feared that it might never return. I knew I would have to make a couple of sacrifices to keep Eli and I from biting the dust. But I was expecting things like convenience, and cleanliness, and…and _other_ social niceties. I never _once_ considered that I would have to give up on my morals, too!

 _Thou shalt not steal._

Good and bad, right and wrong – it had always been black and white, simple and clean-cut. Now, however, I found myself wondering if God might forgive me my sins. I wasn't being frivolous; I was stealing to survive. Surely there was a difference…?

" _Bad people do bad things,_ " Daddy used to lecture me, " _and stealing is one of these bad things. Never steal from others, whether it be their money or their possessions."_ Wide lips, hidden beneath his neatly trimmed, salted-and-peppered beard, curled at the corners as a whimsical smile. " _Even the heart is best is given freely, Samantha…_ "

My Mother, from what little I could actually remember of her, had always snorted derisively at his last comment, but then again, the tall and voluptuous blonde had been mostly human. She was more open to changing relationships and, in her words, " _did not want to be tied down to a soul mate._ " A One.

Not like Daddy.

Or me…

"Here," Nori mumbled and curled his large hand curling over my shoulder, steering me over to the flattest part of the rooftop. He pushed at it, increasing the pressure until I dropped down, bottom plopping down. I was still irked that the older Dwarrow was so physical in his instructions, but I suspected it had something to do with his instincts; Daddy was so absentminded that I could wiggle out of his hold without being reprimanded.

Biting into the soft bread, I sagged in content and hummed around the mouthful. Beggars (and thieves) couldn't be choosers, but I was pretty damn tired of always eating stale bread. Seemed like Nori and Eli had managed to find better spoils this morning.

"'s good," I complimented Eli, the thief in charge of distracting the grocer as our mentor nicked the goods. My little friend beamed at me, even while being similarly manhandled into the spot beside me, and dug into his share of bread.

"Don't tell Nori," Eli whispered back, before pulling two plums out of the front pocket of his dirty trousers. The Ellon looked quite pleased with my awe, so I surmised that the little sneak had stolen these without his knowledge.

"You managed to steal these?" I asked, and although I wanted to keep him out of the worst of it, realistically I knew that Eli would have to learn, too. If something happened, like Eli and I got separated from each other or – God forbid – I _died,_ then Eli would need to know how to take care of himself.

"Yep," Eli replied, mouth popping around the _p._ "I was only s'posed to distract today 'cause I'm not _sneaky enough_ –" Cue finger quotes. "– to steal yet, but I was getting bored waiting for him to get the bread and cheese, so…" A shrug of the shoulders served to finish off his sentence.

I tried not to snatch it from his hand, but I hadn't had fresh fruit in what felt like _forever,_ and the thought of biting into that plum, even a squished and bruised plum, made my manners vanish. I bit into the soft flesh and actually moaned, "Oh, God…"

"Shush, Sammy," Eli urged amidst giggles, though the boy looked pleased at my reaction, and glanced at Nori from beneath his curly black hair. Nervously brushed his fingers through it as our mentor lifted his left eyebrow in question.

I smiled to myself from within the safety of a curtain of fluffy (…okay, frizzy) blonde hair. It was… _cute_ how quickly Eli had begun to value the opinion of the gruff Dwarrow. Admittedly, Nori paid far more attention to him than his father, so…yeah. My smile shifted to a scowl.

" _Eli said there was cheese,_ " I explained in Khuzdul, both to divert his attention from the younger pickpocket and to shamelessly beg for more to eat. It might work since I had used Khuzdul. Nori liked it when I spoke in "our" language.

" _Aye,_ " Nori drawled, " _but ya need to work for that bit, Lass._ " The Dwarrow plucked his water skin from his belt and took a slow draw from the top. Eli pouted and made his grabby hands at him, clearly thirsty, and the older male passed him the water skin with a small grin. Then Eli drank his fill and, when finished, passed it to me.

After sipping slowly, having learned that guzzling water when dehydrated lead to vomiting, I wiped at my wet mouth and turned to the thief. "What am I going to learn today, Nori?" I queried.

Nori gave me a pleased look. With his ADHD, Eli might bounce around like a rabbit and irk the Dwarrow, but _I_ had been the one to fight him tooth and nail at first, always the first to argue over the morality of the situation; it had made it quite difficult for us to get along at first. It had taken me seeing the benefits of thievery – and Nori threatening to paddle my rear – to get that attitude to deteriorate.

"How to pick pockets, o' course." He climbed to his feet and gestured that I follow behind him and, while his attention was on the ladder, I surveyed his taller form, searching for the pocket that contained the promised cheese. Eli and I exchanged glances, and while the boy lifted his shoulder in reply to the silent question, I refused to give up.

"'ere we are," Nori announced, after leading us over a small bridge, through several stacks of wooden crates, and down a street that had only walls, no windows, doors, or onlookers. In the furthermost corner was a pile of wood that had, I noticed dumbly, been arranged to look like a man – and it was wearing his cloak.

"What? _No!_ This is ridiculous!" I exclaimed after his command to pick its pocket. Honestly, I was insulted by his latest training regime. How the fuck would I know if I had been successful? Not that I _wanted_ anybody to catch me red-handed and yell, " _THIEF!_ "

 _Jail would be kinda counterproductive to making it back home in one piece…_

"It's a _special_ cloak, Lass," Nori cheerfully offered his explanation as my expression soured and lips parted in protest.

Mischief glittered in his steely eyes, and though I eyed him with wariness, I settled down long enough to listen to his words. "Now, 'm not goin' to explain more than this: in the pocket is a small treat. If ya can get it without causin' any noise, then ya get to keep it. If I hear ya…" Nori leaned in closer and murmured, "Well, I'll think o' somethin', won't I?"

I sucked in a quiet breath because, while I might not have much experience with the opposite sex, even an _idiot_ could hear the innuendo in his voice. I bit back a retort and instead settled for glaring darkly at him with red cheeks. Nori only chuckled and leaned back against the wall, with his back straight, arms crossed, and legs bent out at a relaxed angle. Eli glanced back and forth between the two of us, a small frown marring his otherwise childishly happy expression, but shrugged it off as an _adult conversation._

… _Thank you, Mrs. Hannah,_ I sent up a prayer of thanks that the Elf had at least taught her child that sometimes, it might just be best not to ask.

Breathing in, I stepped forward, feet parted enough to quiet the stockiness of my short frame, but not so much that somebody else could swipe them out from under me. I crept closer and with fingers straight, I dipped down into the pocket of the cloak, just barely brushing against the supposed treat when –

RING!

A yelp escaped from my mouth and I tumbled back into Eli, knocking the lanky preteen off his feet and onto his backside. He bared his teeth in irritation, braces glinting in the sunlight that leaked into the dark alleyway, and climbed back up, palms patting at his dirty rear. Dirt and debris puffed into the air and made him cough. I patted him lightly on the back to clear it, sending him a small, apologetic smile. The Ellon petulantly stuck his tongue out at me.

Eventually, Eli and I turned to Nori, the latter of whom had been observing our reactions with great glee. I eyed him with misgiving but asked, "What was the point of _that_ little fiasco?"

Nori ignored the foreign word and filled in the missing word using basic context clues – like the annoyed gleam in my eyes and the burning red of my cheeks. " _That_ , Lass, is an old trick, maybe the oldest of 'em. Me own master insisted that I be able to pick the pocket of a standing cloak without makin' a single sound from the bell. Wasn't allowed to try it for real without first mastering that skill." He smirked down at me. "'s harder than it looks, isn't it?"

"Damn straight," I grumbled, and only barely bit back the ruder comment of – " _harder than a teenage boy at a wet t-shirt contest._ " Not only would the last bit be lost in translation, but the first would probably make him rethink his belief that I was a virgin – or rather, maiden.

…I _was_ one. But it wasn't any of _his_ business, was it?

"I wanna try!" Eli declared, and with permission from Nori, bolted forward to shove his hand in the pocket. There was no creeping or crouching – no finesse at all – and, of course, an abrupt chime of the bell signaled that the mannequin (if I could call it that) would have caught him. _Typical Eli…_

"Right," Nori drawled at him, hand ruffling the curls at the back of his head, where it would be hardest for the preteen to fix them, "that just proves ya need time to practice other skills 'fore this one." Crooked his finger at me. "C'mere, Lass."

Hesitantly, I eased closer to him, feeling suspicious of the gleam in his eyes. I _immediately_ felt vindicated because the thief had snapped his hands out to clamp them around mine, and quicker than a rattlesnake, too. He yanked, pulling me even closer, and rotated the two of us to face the opposite direction, to the dummy. I tried to breathe normally, but all I could feel at the moment was _warmth_ – the warmth of his breath on my ear, and the warmth of his stocky body pressed against mine. Never before had I been this close to a male of my own race.

 _Oh, God,_ I shakily thought to myself. _He should_ _ **not**_ _smell this good. Hell, I can't remember the last time the three of us managed to bathe! Scrubbing can only get rid of so much grime…_

"Move yer arm over – aye, down like that – and straighten the fingers. Ya want to be as straight as an arrow –"

 _Believe me. I am_ _ **so**_ _straight, Nori!_

I mentally slapped myself – _and_ the hormones – for even entertaining that thought.

"– and then, stiffen 'em up and curl them into the pocket o' the person. Trick is to pinch his goods –"

 _WHICH GOODS?!_ I inwardly screamed at him, somewhat hysterical at that point. _His wallet or something else?!_

"– while his leg is moving forward. Left pocket, left leg. Right pocket…" Nori trailed off and looked down at me expectantly, the right side of his face pressed against my right.

"…right leg," I finished for him, and if only I could get him to smile that easily all the time. It was a truly beautiful smile that made his eyes crinkle and his teeth show; the look made him appear gentler – happier – than the observant, stern, and calculating Dwarrow that Nori had proven himself to be over as we spent time together.

" _Good girl,_ " Nori mumbled in Khuzdul and patted his gloved hand down my arm. A shiver went down my spine, but the older male had thankfully turned his attention to the dummy and lifted his chin to point at it. He instructed, "Try again. This time, remember to stiffen and curl."

"Aye," I said with an answering grin and, although I started the same way, with careful and quiet steps, I finished by curling and stiffening the fingers instead of keeping them straight. This time, I managed to snag a corner of the object – _cloth,_ I noted, _probably a sack_ – before tricking the wire connecting it to the bell. "Damn…so close!"

"Close, but no cigar," Eli chirped from his place atop a nearby crate. He was nibbling at the rest of his bread from breakfast, obviously taking a quick lunch break, and grinned at me upon seeing the dry look I tossed in his direction. "Dad likes that one!"

"I'll be he does," I muttered, oblivious to the strange look that Nori gave us. _Half-breeds,_ Nori had called the two of us. Were Eli and I really siblings or…? Those thoughts were running through his head, and if I had been aware of the sudden seeds of doubt, I would've tried to distract him. "Too bad Mr. Evans still orders those smelly things for him!"

"At least his teeth aren't yellow, like his!" The Ellon snickered, and I bit back a snort at the silly thought. Elijah was going to be lucky – Mrs. Hannah might not have liked to spend much time with him, but the Elf _had_ insisted that her little boy know his math (…much to his chagrin) and that there be regular visits to the dentist. His teeth were _super_ nice.

How we were going to fix his braces _here,_ thought, was a mystery I had yet to attempt to think over…

"Focus," Nori suddenly grumbled, pushing his feet against mine to correct a slipping in stance. I was momentarily thankful that the older male had not been cruel enough to knock both feet out from under me. Because, you see, it _was_ a possibility. Bastard had done it before. "Ya know better than to get distracted while workin'."

"Yes, Sir," I sarcastically said but, upon seeing that familiar flash in his blue-gray irises, I was quick to correct the tone of my voice and apologized, "Sorry, Nori. Force of habit. I'm kinda quick to anger when frustrated…"

"Aye, I noticed. Might want to fix that 'fore ya go and try to wrangle yourself a mate," Nori sniped. Ignored the tightening of my mouth and the clenching of my fists. Moved ahead to rearrange the wire and the bell.

"Again," Nori ordered.

So, I tried again. Again, and again, and again…

Eventually, I dropped to the ground, hands and knees stinging from the sudden contact with the gravelly dirt, and I sighed. Frustration and weariness colored the sound in shades of black. Eli gave me a sympathetic look from his place at the entrance, but I had to fight the urge to snarl at him because Nori at least had _him_ running little operations. His success was slow at first, until the Dwarrow shared his advice, and then the preteen began bringing back loot – an apple, three wooden trinkets, and a small handful of rice. Nori and Eli made short work of the small apple and the rice; the latter offered to give me a slice, but the former refused to share, citing that I would be rewarded _if_ – and not _when_ – I could just get this skill down. I was mutinous.

In Khuzdul, Nori muttered, " _Clumsy girl,_ " and critically eyed the furious tears in my eyes as a sign of weakness.

"Let's take a break," Eli hastily suggested, intimately familiar with the fact that when my temper finally snapped –

It _really_ snapped.

Huffing, I agreed and, without waiting for permission from Nori, stormed down the back street and backtracked until I had reemerged into the town square. It was more open now, with fewer people milling about than earlier, and had been bathed in the orange glow of late afternoon. It was around suppertime, and Nori decided to leave us near the orphanage while slipping inside the house I had pointed out earlier – that I had Marked. A couple of Women gave us sidelong glances, but I pretended to be playing with Eli. We had both grabbed think sticks and busied ourselves with drawing pictures in the dirt. I made a cat face. And Eli…drew a penis. Sigh.

About forty-five minutes later, Nori returned, having already lifted several items from the house of the middle-class family. He had also visited his fence (the Man that traded coins for the stolen goods that would be resold to others people in a distant town, to stave off unwanted attention). I was surprised to find that the Dwarrow tossed each of us a small satchel made of brown leather – and filled with little copper and silver coins. Eli nearly lost his, and Nori stepped forward to tie the satchel to the belt at his waist, before nearing me and doing the same, eyes meeting mine as we separated.

Nori pushed his hand into my shoulder, and Eli and I started forward. I stuck to the shadowed places, like the edges of buildings, and stayed just ahead of Nori. Eli loped forward to wind his long fingers in mine, and I squeezed them, sensing that the ten-year-old thought me angry with him.I wasn't. I wasn't even angry with _Nori._ But I _was_ angry that I couldn't master basic pickpocketing skills. So really, I was angry at myself. _What else is new?_

My stomach grumbled, and I glowered down at it as my mentor slipped by in the thick darkness of night and continued to slink ahead of Eli and myself. I followed him, curious where the Dwarrow was going at this time of day (pickpocketing was more of an early morning/late evening occupation), but time and time again, my eyes drifted down to his pockets.

Cheese.

He had _cheese._

Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. Just as our swarm, a term Nori explained meant _small pack of thieves_ , moved into the seedier part of Laketown, I gently nudged Eli in the ribs and softly muttered into his ear, "Plan P," which basically meant – _tell Nori that you need to relieve yourself._

"Nori! Hey, Nori! Nori, Nori, NORI!"

"What?" The Dwarrow in question glared back over a stocky shoulder to address the boy, brow furrowed in confusion as our youngest thief bounced around while holding his private areas. " _Mahal, help me,_ " He muttered to himself, knowing that the boy would pester him until he answered, and then – "What is it _now,_ Half Pint?"

The Ellon bounced about some more and made a show of eyeing all of the closest hiding spots. "I gotta pee! Gotta pee, gotta pee, gotta pee! Like, seriously, if I don't go _now,_ my poor penis is going to fall off!" Eli whined between his teeth, the sharp sound whistling through his braces, and glared at Nori, who had been drinking from his water skin. "…too much water…"

The Dwarrow gestured for the boy to lead the way and, after seeing that I thought myself to be staying, pointed his finger at me and then his side, clearly knowing better than to leave me alone and without his supervision. I pretended to grumble, even petulantly kicking at the pebbles by the soles of my dirty boots, and stomped after him with feigned irritation. Nori snorted at me, obviously buying the spoiled-brat-and-her-temper-tantrum routine, and tossed his ornately decorated head in self-pity.

"Quiet down," Nori hissed, irritated by my obnoxiously loud stomping and rightly worried that somebody untoward might come snooping around, "before ya attract the attention o' the guards. Lasses. Bleedin' trouble, the lot of ya…"

Taking this as an opportunity, I obliged by following his orders, quieting down, and slinking forward, hands inching closer and closer to his belt, until –

 _Bingo._

My fingers curled (just like Nori had instructed) around the medium-sized block of cheese hidden in his pocket. I nabbed it and quickly shoved it in my own, even as my mouth watered with desire and stomach softly grumbled with hunger. It would taste even sweeter after I split it with Eli, and if the two of us could eat it _in front of_ Nori. Ha!

I ducked down to stare at my shoes, hiding the resulting grin. My best friend reappeared shortly thereafter and, the moment that the Dwarrow had turned to face forward again, I bent down and sneakily retrieved the cheese from my pocket. Eli cut through it with his Swiss Army Knife. I nudged him in the side, and the boy nudged back with his bonier elbow, making me wince, but still I smiled happily as we quietly followed behind the Dwarrow and settled down in the tiny hovel that Nori had made for us to sleep in. With Nori keeping watch to my right, I curled protectively to the left, around Elijah, and the three of us settled in for the night.

Eli and I stared at each other, arms and legs intertwined for warmth, but also for comfort. He pressed his hand against mine, and I passed him a couple of pieces of cheese. We quietly shoved the chunks into our mouths, and the two of us couldn't help but snicker in delight. It tasted like a job well-done! So, with bellies full, and hearts considerably lighter than in days past, Elijah and I drifted off to sleep, knowing that Nori would do his best to keep us all safe for the night.

It should not come as a surprise, therefore, that this was exactly how Nori found the two of us in the morning – asleep, faces peaceful (Eli drooling, me snoring occasionally), and with crumbs covering us.

Unbeknownst to either, Nori sighed in exasperation and reluctantly smiled down at his apprentices as a warm sun colored the morning in oranges, red, ands purples. He leaned back against the building, lit his pipe, and inhaled his first breath. It warmed his belly and relaxed him just enough that the tightness in his shoulders diminished somewhat. After a minute, Nori let his eyes wander.

"Guess I'm stuck with the two o' ya." The Dwarrow stared into the distance, towards the Lonely Mountain, and chuckled to himself, "'s going to be an adventure to remember…"

* * *

***Author's Note***

So! I have figured out that I am going to REALLY put some thought and research into this particular story because, hey, I like learning and writing, so why not combine the two? :) Joking aside, I had fun researching about locks and pickpockets and dear God, I hope that my browsing history doesn't implicate me in anything. Haha!

All of the stuff about locks, and that bit about the wire and bell routine with the cloak, is true and researched from the Internet. Try looking into Middle Age/Victorian stealing, if you're interested. It's pretty neat stuff!

As always...

 **PLEASE READ AND REVIEW!**

 _ **P.S. IMPORTANT QUESTION - Which would be preferred in the next few chapters - Thorin immediately knowing that Sammy is his One and being sort of "protective" of her, or him being kind of "frosty" upon meeting her? Lemme know in your review, please - PROTECTIVE or FROSTY!**_

 **:D**


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